“Hello, Cassia.” Five Years After She Disappeared, the Crime Boss Walked Into Her Café and Found...

Inside the stone vault, the sounds of battle were muffled, reduced to distant thuds and vibration through the floorboards.

Cassia sat against the far wall, holding Arya close. She had turned off the overhead lights to conserve power, leaving only the faint green glow of an emergency exit sign.

Arya was quiet, her small thumb in her mouth, her gray eyes fixed on the heavy steel door.

“Is he fighting the monsters, Mommy?” Arya asked softly.

“Yes, baby,” Cassia whispered, tears streaming down her face. “He’s fighting the monsters.”

“He’s very brave,” Arya said simply. “Like Barnaby.”

Cassia smiled through her tears, kissing her daughter’s forehead. He’s your father, she wanted to say. He’s your father and he loves you more than life itself.

Outside the vault, the battle reached its terrifying climax.

The grand foyer of Oakridge was reduced to ruins. Shattered chandeliers lay scattered across the blood-stained marble floors. Smoke hung thick in the air.

Adrian stood near the base of the grand staircase, his tactical vest torn, a trail of blood running down his left cheek from a glass shrapnel wound.

Across the ruined hall, standing near the shattered front entrance, was Lev Sokolov.

Lev was leaner, hungrier, his face scarred from five years in Black Dolphin prison. He held a heavy assault rifle, flanked by his two remaining mercenaries.

“Adrian!” Lev laughed—a dry, crazed sound that echoed off the high ceilings. “You built a palace for yourself while I rotted in a cell! And all for a rat who gave your father to the feds!”

“She isn't a rat, Lev,” Adrian said smoothly, raising his sidearm without a tremor in his hands. “She was smarter than all of us. She saw what my father was—a dying cancer—and she cut herself free.”

“And you let her!” Lev screamed, his face twisting with rage. “You let her ruin our family! Where is she, Adrian? Where is the girl? I’m going to bleed them both in front of you!”

“You’re not bleeding anyone tonight, Lev,” Adrian said coldly.

Lev raised his rifle to fire.

At that exact second, the heavy wooden doors behind Lev exploded inward.

Ivan and a squad of six heavily armed Volkov reinforcements—having flanked the property through the underground service tunnels—flooded the foyer.

A hail of gunfire filled the hall. Lev’s two mercenaries were cut down instantly.

Lev panicked, firing wildly as he backed toward the shattered entrance. Adrian stepped forward through the smoke, firing three deliberate shots.

The first round hit Lev in the shoulder, spinning him around.

The second hit him in the thigh, dropping him to his knees on the marble floor.

Lev coughed violently, dropping his rifle, looking up through bloodshot eyes as Adrian walked up to him, stopping just inches away.

Adrian lowered the barrel of his gun until it rested directly against Lev’s forehead.

“This is for Cassia,” Adrian whispered. “And this is for my daughter.”