"I grabbed a stranger’s hand to escape my abusive ex—unaware he was Boston’s most feared mafia boss."

I woke up inside the sunlit master suite, wrapped in cashmere blankets, feeling well-rested for the first time in six months. On the bedside table sat a fresh pot of coffee, warm pastries, and a sleek, new smartphone with a note written in fluid cursive:

Your old phone was tracked by Morrison's precinct. Use this. Stay inside the upper courtyard until I return. — Lorenzo.

I put on a comfortable white cashmere sweater and dark trousers that had been left in the walk-in closet, poured a cup of coffee, and stepped out onto the private balcony overlooking the city skyline.

Standing on the lower terrace near the infinity pool was Lorenzo, flanked by his chief lieutenant, Leo, and two legal advisors. They were reviewing a series of financial ledgers and precinct wiretaps on a tablet screen.

When my sandals clicked against the marble steps, Lorenzo turned instantly, his dark eyes softening by a fraction of a degree as he took in my appearance.

"Good morning, Isabella," Lorenzo spoke warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept better than I have in months, Lorenzo," I admitted, stopping near the edge of the pool. "What are those files?"

Lorenzo didn't try to hide them. He held the tablet out so I could see the screen.

The images showed Derek Morrison standing outside the Memory Care Sanctuary in Brookline—the private medical facility where my mother, Clara, resided. He was holding an eviction notice signed by a corrupt municipal judge, flanked by two armed precinct officers.

My heart stopped beating. The coffee cup in my hand trembled violently.

"My mother...!" I gasped, my voice rising into sharp panic. "Derek is trying to evict my mother?!"

"Derek realized last night that he lost his leverage over you," Lorenzo explained cleanly, his baritone cold as Arctic ice. "He is attempting to use your mother's care home lease to force you to surrender to his precinct."

"I have to go there!" I shouted, taking two fast steps toward the driveway. "I have to stop him!"

Lorenzo stepped into my path, his broad hands coming up to catch my shoulders, holding me firmly in place, his storm-gray eyes locking onto mine with an unshakeable, sovereign authority.