Chapter 1 - The Shadow of the Beast
The heavy silence inside the penthouse was shattered only by the soft, rhythmic hum of the high-tech security system monitoring the Manhattan sky. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, snow fell over the dark ribbon of the Hudson River.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely a dry raspy whisper as I pulled the silk duvet around my bruised shoulders. "Why would he care who rescued me? He threw us out to freeze!"
Elias didn't answer immediately. He gestured to his lieutenant, a tall, battle-scarred man named Marcus, who handed him a secure tablet. Elias tapped the screen, his dark gray eyes scanning the file with cold, terrifying precision.
"Your former husband's name is Julian Miller," Elias said softly, his voice dropping into a low baritone that vibrated through the room. "He isn't just a petty abuser with an ego problem, Ava. He is a mid-level money launderer working for the Moretti syndicate—the family that controls the docks on the South side."
My breath hitched in my chest. "Julian... works for the Mafia?"
"Julian was drowning in three million dollars of debt to the Moretti family," Elias explained, stepping closer to my bed. His tall, broad-shouldered frame cast a long, protective shadow over me. "He promised Don Moretti that he would give his sister’s family a male heir to seal a blood alliance between their factions. When you gave birth to two baby girls instead of a son, his leverage vanished. He panicked, threw you out to save face, and told Moretti you had died in childbirth."
"Then why is he looking for us now?" I gasped, tears of terror hot against my cold cheeks.
"Because my convoy was spotted under the Hudson overpass," Elias said, leaning down slightly so his dark eyes were level with mine. "Julian realized that the woman saved by Elias Vance—the man who has spent ten years systematically destroying the Moretti territory—was his abandoned wife. If Moretti finds out Julian left his wife and daughters alive, and that they are now under my protection, Moretti will execute Julian for treason and incompetence."
A sharp cry came from the nursery suite down the hall. My instincts flared instantly. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, forgetting my weakened state, and immediately collapsed forward as dizziness washed over me.
Before my knees hit the hardwood floor, two powerful arms caught me.
Elias lifted me effortlessly against his chest, holding me close. The rich, woodsy scent of cedar, leather, and expensive cologne wrapped around me. I looked up into his striking, sharp-jawed face, expecting to see disgust or anger.
Instead, I saw a fierce, unyielding light burning in his dark eyes.
"Easy, Ava," he murmured, carrying me down the hallway as if I weighed nothing at all. "I have you. I'm not going to let anyone touch you or your girls again."
He walked into the nursery. Two custom white cribs sat beneath a warm heating lamp, flanked by a full-time pediatric nurse who respectfully bowed her head as Elias entered. Inside the cribs, my twin daughters—tiny, pink-cheeked, and wrapped in warm cashmere blankets—were squirming happily.
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Elias set me gently down in a plush velvet rocking chair beside the cribs and placed my crying daughter, Mia, into my arms. Then, to my absolute shock, the most ruthless mob boss in New York bent down, gently lifted my second daughter, Lily, with his massive, tattooed hands, and cradled her head against his chest.
Lily immediately quieted down, her tiny fist curling around the dark lapel of Elias's tailored suit jacket.
