"He Accused His Pregnant Wife of Marrying for Billions—Until the Returned Black Card Exposed His Own Bloodline’s Lethal Betrayal"

The window frame blew inward.

The intruder rolled onto the hardwood floor, glass crunching beneath his heavy combat boots. He raised his weapon, his night-vision goggles glowing with a pale green phosphorescence.

"Target secured," the man spoke into his collar radio. "Third floor bedroom. Moving to neutralize the perimeter—"

He never finished the sentence.

The wooden entrance door to Emily’s apartment did not simply open—it exploded off its hinges under the concussive force of a breaching charge.

Through the cloud of splintered oak and plaster dust, a figure charged into the room like an enraged titan.

Alessandro.

The intruder spun, bringing his submachine gun up, but Alessandro was faster. He closed the gap in two massive strides, his left hand clamping down on the barrel of the weapon, wrenching it upward as a burst of 9mm rounds shredded the ceiling.

With his right hand, Alessandro drove a heavy tactical blade directly through the man’s throat.

The mercenary choked, his eyes bulging beneath his goggles, and collapsed onto the shattered floorboards.

Alessandro didn't look at the dying man. He spun around, his chest heaving, his face spattered with blood, his dark eyes frantic.

"Emily!" he roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. "Emily!"

"Alessandro..."

The whisper came from behind the cast-iron radiator.

Alessandro dropped his weapon. He fell to his knees on the glass-covered floor, heedless of the shards slicing through his trousers, and scrambled toward her.

Emily was curled in a fetal position, her hands locked over her stomach, trembling violently. Plaster dust coated her hair and eyelashes. She looked impossibly small, impossibly fragile against the soot-stained wall.

"Emily... oh God, Emily," Alessandro choked out, reaching for her. His hands hovered over her shoulders, shaking violently, terrified that touching her would break what was left of her spirit. "Are you hurt? Did they touch you? Did he touch you?"

"The baby..." she gasped, tears cutting clear channels through the white dust on her cheeks. "Alessandro... the baby... it hurts so much..."

A cold terror, deeper and more paralyzing than any threat he had ever faced in the criminal underworld, seized Alessandro's heart.

He slid his arms beneath her, lifting her gently against his chest. As he pulled her up, a sharp burst of automatic fire erupted from the hallway outside.

"Boss! Get down!" Marco screamed from the doorway, firing his rifle in controlled bursts down the stairwell. "Moretti’s secondary team is in the stairwell! We have to move now!"

Alessandro turned his back to the door, using his massive body as an impenetrable human shield over Emily and their child.

A stray round zipped through the plaster, grazing Alessandro’s right shoulder. A line of crimson bloomed instantly across his white shirt. He didn't even flinch. He didn't make a sound. He simply tightened his grip around Emily, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

"Hold on to me, sweetheart," Alessandro whispered against her hair, his voice breaking with a tenderness that defied the carnage around them. "I've got you. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again. I swear it on my life."