648 "The Mafia boss expected the poor little girl to keep his $10,000, but she returned every dollar—and later asked one question that made him suspect his own men.

The morning sun hit the sprawling estate, but the warmth did not reach the tension inside Adrian’s study.

Sophia walked through the high-ceilinged hallways, holding Emma’s hand tightly. The estate was vast, luxurious, yet strangely hollow. Fine art adorned the walls, but there were no family photos, no personal touches. It was a fortress built for survival, not living.

In the study, Adrian sat behind a heavy mahogany desk, surrounded by monitors showing security feeds from across the city. Beside him stood Frankie, his oldest lieutenant—a man with graying hair and a face carved by decades of street violence.

"We checked Lucas's apartment," Frankie was saying as Sophia stepped near the doorway. "It was cleaned out. But we found bank transfers routing through a shell company in Panama. Salvatore paid him half a million dollars over the last six months."

Adrian’s fists clenched on the desk. "Six months. Every meeting, every shipment, every deal... Salvatore knew before it happened."

"Mr. Moretti?" Sophia’s soft voice broke the heavy silence.

Adrian looked up, his cold expression instantly softening. "Sophia. Did you sleep well?"

"As well as can be expected," she said, entering the room with Emma. "Emma wants to know if there are crayons here."

A rare, faint smile touched Adrian's lips. He opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a box of pristine drawing supplies and a stack of paper. "I had one of the guards pick these up this morning."

Emma’s eyes lit up. "Thank you, Mr. Adrian!" She took the supplies and sat at a small coffee table in the corner of the grand study, immediately immersing herself in her drawings.

Sophia stepped closer to the desk, her voice dropped to a whisper. "What happens now? We can't stay hidden here forever. I saw the news this morning—Rose’s Diner was vandalized last night. Someone burned the front counter."

Adrian’s eyes darkened. Salvatore was trying to draw him out by destroying everything tied to him.

"I am going to rebuild that diner, Sophia. Better than before," Adrian said firmly. "But first, I have to cut the rot out of my organization. Salvatore thinks he has the upper hand because he knows where I am. What he doesn't know is that I’m done playing defense."

"Adrian," Frankie interrupted, holding up a encrypted tablet. "We have a ping. Lucas just used his access card at the East Coast shipping terminal. He’s trying to clear a container of our cargo."

"He thinks I’m hunkered down here, afraid," Adrian said, standing up and buttoning his jacket. "Frankie, prepare the team. We leave in ten minutes."

Sophia reached out, instinctively touching Adrian’s arm. "Be careful," she said softly. The words came out before she could stop them.

Adrian looked at her hand on his sleeve, feeling a strange warmth bloom in his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced in over two decades. "I always am," he replied quietly. "Stay inside. Frankie's best men are stationed at every door."