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"I'm going to kill you." Each word squeezed through my teeth like ice from hell.

"You can try." Lorenzo released Ruby's face, pulled out a silver handgun, and pressed the barrel to her temple. "But before that, you need to think real carefully—do you want your woman alive, or do you want to keep playing Don?"

Ruby in the frame trembled violently, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she bit down hard, not saying a word.

In that moment, my heart felt crushed in an invisible fist. I could barely breathe.

"What do you want?" I lowered my voice, trying to sound calm, but my right hand was already silently gesturing—Tony immediately stood, soundlessly leading two men out of the conference room to trace the signal.

"Now that's how you do business!" Lorenzo bared his yellow teeth. "Simple—I want you to come alone. I'll send you the address. No backup, no cops, no tricks. You break the rules, I blow this little bitch's brains out right in front of you."

"You touch one hair on her head, I'll make you wish you were dead."

"Aw, so romantic." Lorenzo made a show of being moved, then suddenly kicked Ruby hard in the stomach.

"Ungh—" Ruby grunted, her body curling in pain.

"Lorenzo!!" I roared, wanting nothing more than to leap through the screen and tear this animal apart.

"Remember—alone, one hour. One minute late, I carve another cut in her." Lorenzo made a throat-slitting gesture at the camera. "Oh, and... heard you got yourself a bastard son recently? How sweet. If you don't show, maybe I should 'visit' that little brat at the hotel."

Leon.

He knew about Leon.

That thought struck like lightning through my brain, snapping the last thread of reason.

"I'll come." Each word fell like ice-coated steel. "But you listen good, Lorenzo DeLuca. If anything happens to her or my son, I'll drag your soul straight to hell."

"I'll be waiting."

The video cut out.

The moment the phone screen went black, a text message popped up.

—Queens, Seventh Avenue. Abandoned cold storage. Alone. One hour.

I took a deep breath, threw the phone on the table, turned, and strode toward the weapons cabinet on the wall.

"Don!" Marco stood. "This is obviously a trap! You can't go alone!"

"I know." I yanked open the cabinet door, grabbed a custom Beretta 92FS, quickly checked the magazine, then pulled a lightweight Kevlar vest from the rack. "But I don't have a choice."

"Let me bring men with you—"

"No." I cut him off, pulling on the vest, sliding the gun into my waist holster. "Lorenzo's a lunatic. He'll do anything. If he spots backup, Ruby and Leon both die."

"Then at least let Rocco follow you!"

"Rocco goes to the Hilton now." I fastened the last strap on the vest, turned to face everyone in the conference room. "Transfer Leon and the nanny to the safe house on the Long Island estate. Armed guard, twenty-four seven. Any stranger who gets close—shoot to kill."

"Understood!"

"Marco, track Lorenzo's signal." I grabbed the car keys from the table. "Tony, bring twenty of our best snipers. Hold position five hundred yards outside the cold storage. Don't move until I give the signal."

"Yes!"

"And—" I stopped at the door, looked back at everyone present, eyes cold as Siberian winter. "If I die there tonight, you know what to do."