632 A six-year-old girl carrying one infant and pushing another in a broken stroller offered me every coin she had to buy formula, never knowing I was Milwaukee’s most feared crime boss—and I never imagined that saving those three children would eventually bring my oldest enemy back from the dead.

I lowered my rifle slightly, stepping into the dim light of the command center alone, gesturing for Victor and the team to hold their positions.

"Look at you, Marcus," I said, my voice cold, calm, and echoing against the damp concrete walls. "Eight years ago, you hid in the dark like a rat. Today, you're still hiding in a hole in the dirt."

"I took everything from you!" Marcus raged, his hands shaking on the detonator. "I made you feel human! I made you love those bastard children, knowing you'd bleed for them!"

"You're right about one thing," I said, taking a slow step forward. "You did make me human. You made me realize that I actually have something in this life worth fighting for—worth living for. But you made one fatal mistake, Marcus."

"What's that?" he snarled, his thumb twitching on the trigger.

"You thought loving them made me weak," I whispered.

Before he could react, a red laser dot appeared precisely on the center of his hand.

THWIP!

A high-caliber sniper round fired from my top marksman posted outside through a ventilation shaft shattered the detonator in Marcus’s hand, severing his fingers instantly.

Marcus shrieked in agony, dropping to his knees as blood sprayed across the floor. I closed the distance in two strides, kicking the remains of the detonator away, and slammed Marcus face-first onto the concrete ground.

I unholstered my Kimber .45 and pressed the cold steel barrel directly against the back of his neck.

"This is for Hannah," I said quietly. "This is for Sophie. And this is for the life you tried to steal."