TAKE THOSE CHEAP SHOES OFF! I WON’T HAVE A SERVANT MAKING NOISE AT MY ENGAGEMENT DINNER!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE SNAPPED THE HEEL OFF HIS 23-YEAR-OLD MAID’S SHOE AND FORCED HER TO SERVE THIRTY GUESTS BAREFOOT—BUT WHEN HIS SEVEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER BEGAN LAYING WHITE DINNER NAPKINS ACROSS THE MARBLE FLOO

Chapter 4 – The Train Ticket to Nowhere

The temperature in the study seemed to drop ten degrees.

Emily staggered backward, bumping into the heavy leather sofa. The air rushed out of her lungs.

Life support. Her father was breathing on his own just yesterday. What had they done to him?

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He bypassed Marcus completely, storming out of the study and marching down the long hallway toward the grand foyer. Emily scrambled to keep up, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

When they reached the foyer, Julian Carlisle was standing beneath the massive crystal chandelier, looking entirely too relaxed for a man standing inside a mafia boss’s stronghold.

He was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit, and held a leather briefcase in one hand.

“Dominic,” Julian smiled smoothly. “I apologize for the late hour. But my sister came home in absolute hysterics tonight. Something about a broken shoe and a ruined engagement?”

Dominic walked down the marble steps, stopping three feet away from Julian.

“Where is Arthur Parker?” Dominic asked, his voice lethally calm.

Julian sighed, adjusting his expensive silk tie. “Arthur suffered a terrible medical complication during his transfer this evening. He’s currently in a private Carlisle clinic, on a ventilator. It’s a tragedy, really.”

Emily let out a choked sob. Dominic reached back without looking and placed a protective hand on her arm, keeping her behind him.

“You have five seconds to tell me where that clinic is,” Dominic said.

Julian chuckled. “Or what, Dominic? You’ll kill me? If I don’t check in with my doctors in exactly twenty minutes, they pull the plug. Arthur drowns in his own fluids. You lose your leverage.”

Julian set his leather briefcase on a marble side table and snapped the locks open.

He pulled out a crisp, white envelope—identical to the one left in the hospital room—and a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills.

“This doesn’t have to be violent, Dominic,” Julian said, offering the envelope to Emily. “Your father’s medical debts were purchased by my firm three years ago. You owe us over four hundred thousand dollars. But I am a generous man.”

Julian smiled at Emily. “Take the cash. Take the train ticket to New York. Disappear tonight, and I will personally ensure your father receives the best medical care money can buy. He will live a long, comfortable life.”

Emily stared at the money. It was more than she could earn in a lifetime of scrubbing floors.

“And if I refuse?” she whispered.

Julian’s smile vanished. “Then your father’s heart stops beating at exactly 1:00 AM. And you will spend the rest of your life knowing you killed him.”

Emily looked at the grandfather clock. It was 12:20 AM. Forty minutes.

She reached her trembling hand toward the envelope. She had to save her father. She had no choice.

But before her fingers could touch the paper, Dominic’s large hand clamped down over her wrist.

He pulled her hand back.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Dominic said.

Julian raised an eyebrow. “Are you willing to let an innocent man die just to spite my family, Dominic?”

Dominic stepped closer to Julian, entirely invading the man’s personal space.

“You think you hold the cards, Julian,” Dominic said quietly. “But you made a fatal miscalculation. You think I’m my father. You think I play by the old rules.”

Dominic snapped his fingers.

From the shadows of the upper balcony, three laser sights suddenly appeared, painting bright red dots directly onto Julian Carlisle’s chest and forehead.

Julian froze. His smug composure evaporated instantly.

“Marcus,” Dominic said without looking away from Julian’s terrified eyes.

The consigliere stepped forward. “Yes, Boss.”

“Call the Carlisle estate,” Dominic ordered. “Tell Julian’s father that I currently have three sniper rifles aimed at his only son’s heart. Tell him that if Arthur Parker is not delivered safely to my front door in exactly twenty minutes, I will mail him his son’s head in a cardboard box.”

Julian swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. “Dominic, you’re crazy. If you kill me, the Commission will go to war with you!”

“Let them come,” Dominic whispered. “I am tired of playing nice.”

The heavy mahogany doors of the mansion suddenly creaked open from the inside.

Everyone turned.

Little Isabella stood in the doorway of the hallway, clutching a stuffed rabbit. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, looking confused by the men with guns and the laser dots.

“Daddy?” Isabella mumbled. “Why is the bad man from the park here?”

The room went dead silent.

Dominic’s blood ran cold. He turned to his daughter.

“What did you say, sweetheart?” Dominic asked softly.

Isabella pointed her little finger directly at Julian Carlisle.

“He’s the bad man from the park,” Isabella said innocently. “The one who gave me the candy last week and asked me what time Emily goes home.”

Emily gasped, covering her mouth in horror. They had been watching her. They had been stalking Isabella to get to her.

Dominic slowly turned his head back to Julian. The look in the mafia boss’s eyes was no longer just anger. It was pure, unadulterated murder.

“You approached my daughter?” Dominic whispered, his voice trembling with rage.

Julian backed away, raising his hands. “Dominic, wait. It was just to gather information. I swear I didn’t touch her!”

Dominic didn’t draw a gun. He didn’t signal his snipers.

He simply stepped forward and drove his fist directly into Julian’s face with a sickening crunch.

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