The triplets walked up to a single father and innocently said, “Hello, sir, OUR MOTHER HAS A TATTOO EXACTLY LIKE YOURS.” He froze on the spot, because the broken compass inked on his arm was tied to a night he had spent years trying to forget. Suddenly, a secret he thought was buried forever came rushing back.

"Step back, ma'am. We just need a word regarding Ms. Montgomery's current restructuring plan," one of the men in suits said, his voice carrying an edge that suggested he wasn't a journalist. He reached out to grab the nanny’s arm.

"Get away from us!" the nanny yelled, clutching the triplets tightly against the school’s iron gate.

Elias closed the distance in seconds. He grabbed the man’s reaching wrist, twisting it downward with the leverage of someone who had worked a decade in heavy construction and manual labor. The man gasped, stepping back instinctively.

"She told you to back off," Elias said, positioning his broad frame between the men and the children.

The second man narrowed his eyes, reaching inside his jacket. "This isn't your business, pal. Move along if you know what's good for you."

"Elias?" a small voice squeaked from behind him.

Elias glanced back briefly. It was Valerie, the middle triplet, pointing at his exposed forearm where his jacket sleeve had pulled up during the altercation. The broken compass was clearly visible. The two men in suits noticed the interaction, their eyes shifting from Elias’s face down to his arm. A look of sudden recognition flashed across the lead man’s face, followed by deep suspicion.

"Who are you?" the man demanded, pulling his hand back from his jacket as a school security guard finally sprinted out through the main gates.

"That's enough!" the security guard shouted, pulling his radio. "I'm calling the police!"

Seeing that the situation had turned against them, the two men backed toward their silver sedan. "This isn't over," the driver muttered before both men got into the car and sped off into the afternoon traffic.

The nanny was shaking, holding the three girls close. She looked at Elias with a mixture of profound relief and intense terror. "You... you were at the park yesterday," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I was," Elias said, raising his hands slightly to show he was no threat. "Are you all okay?"

"We're fine," the nanny said quickly, taking a step back toward the armored SUV, whose driver had now jumped out with a hand on his concealed sidearm. "Mr. Vance, we need to leave. Now."

The driver, Vance, scanned Elias with sharp, trained eyes. "Sir, I appreciate you stepping in, but you need to clear the area."

"Wait," Lucy, one of the triplets, said, stepping around the nanny. She looked up at Elias with those striking gray eyes. "Are you the man from Seattle? Mommy has a drawing of you in her locked desk."

Elias felt the air leave his lungs again. "A drawing?"

"Lucy, hush!" the nanny scolded, visibly pale. She hustled the girls into the back of the armored SUV and slammed the heavy door shut. Vance gave Elias a long, calculating look before getting into the driver's seat and speeding away.

Elias stood alone on the sidewalk, his mind racing. A drawing in her locked desk. Camila hadn't just forgotten him. She had kept a memory of him. And the men who had just tried to corner the children were clearly looking for leverage against her.

He knew he couldn't stay in the dark any longer. Camila wasn't just a wealthy figure from his past; she was a woman in danger, and those three girls—who might very well be his daughters—were caught in the middle of something dangerous.

Elias walked back toward the subway station, pulling out his phone. He dialed a number he hadn't called in years: Julian, an old military buddy who now ran a private security and skip-tracing firm in Brooklyn.

"Julian," Elias said as soon as the line picked up. "I need a favor. A big one. I need to get inside a private event at the Metropolitan Club tonight. And I need to know everything about the board members of Montgomery Logistics."