Three years after my divorce, I casually asked my right-hand man to find out how my ex-wife was doing. I expected an address, maybe a job. Instead, exactly one hour later, Marcus stormed into my office, dropped a photograph onto my desk, and whispered, “Boss... Evelyn has twins.”

Within twelve minutes, the street outside 412 Tremont Street was cordoned off by six unmarked black SUVs from the Moretti private security vanguard.

Senior Detective Marcus Stone of the Massachusetts State Police Major Crimes Division—a trusted personal ally who had served alongside Marcus Reed in the military—arrived on the scene with three unmarked cruisers, managing the perimeter and intercepting the local patrol response before media cameras could arrive.

“The shooters are neutralized, Adrian,” Detective Stone reported, stepping into the dust-filled hallway. “Julian Vance was intercepted two blocks away trying to enter an idling rideshare. We have him secured in the tactical van downstairs.”

I stood up, holding little Leo securely in my left arm while Evelyn carried Mia, wrapped tightly in a warm cashmere blanket.

Julian Cole walked beside us, carrying a small leather bag containing the children’s essential medical records, inhalers, and passports.

“Where are we going?” Evelyn whispered, her body still shivering as we descended the stairs past the handcuffed contractors.

“My private compound in Marblehead,” I answered gently, adjusting the blanket over Mia’s head to shield her eyes from the flashing emergency lights. “A ten-acre oceanfront estate with twenty-four-hour biometric security and an independent medical pavilion. You will be completely safe there.”

We stepped out onto the wet brick sidewalk into the crisp morning air.

Julian Vance was pinned face-down against the hood of an armored Suburban, his hands secured in heavy steel zip-ties, his expensive trench coat soaked in muddy street water.

When Julian saw me emerge from the brownstone holding my son, his face drained of every drop of color.

“Adrian…!” Julian choked out, thrashing against Marcus’s grip. “Listen to me! It wasn't my idea! Victoria ordered the extraction! She said the children were a liability to the Castiglione merger! She told me you had lost your mind!”

I walked up to the side of the vehicle, stopping three feet from my cousin.

Leo buried his face into my neck, his small arms wrapping tightly around my collar.

I looked down at Julian Vance with eyes of sub-zero, immovable granite.

“You brought automatic weapons into a nursery where my children were eating breakfast, Julian,” I spoke softly, each word carrying the lethal weight of an executioner’s axe.

“Adrian, please! We’re blood!” Julian wailed, tears of sheer panic streaming down his face. “Think of your mother!”

“My mother is about to learn what happens when you wage war against the head of this family,” I replied with chilling finality.