Part 2: The mafia boss’s nonverbal child broke two years of total silence to call a waitress her mother, completely unaware that the billionaire family was hiding the girl's true identity.

The gala at the Vance Metropolitan Plaza was scheduled months in advance—an annual gathering of high-society billionaires, politicians, and disguised syndicate lords. To cancel it would signal weakness to the Romanovs; to attend was to step directly into the lion's den.

"We lure Nikolai into the open," Damian explained as we prepared in the penthouse suite.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back. The faded waitress uniform was gone, replaced by a bespoke emerald silk gown that draped like liquid around my body, perfectly matching the emerald pendant at my throat. Leah was tucked safely inside the inner sanctuary vault of the plaza, guarded by fifty elite mercenaries under Marco's direct command.

Damian stood behind me, adjusting the diamond-encrusted bracelet around my wrist. His reflection looked formidable in an obsidian tuxedo, a weapon concealed beneath each lapel.

"You look breathtaking," he said softly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. "No one in that ballroom will dare question who you are. Tonight, you are Clara Vance. Mother of the Vance heir. And my equal."

My heart hammered against my ribs, both from fear of the coming conflict and the dangerous, intoxicating pull I felt toward this lethal man.

"What if Nikolai strikes inside the ballroom?" I asked.

"He won't," Damian replied coldly. "Nikolai is a coward who strikes through proxies. He will attempt to bypass the ballroom to breach the vault. He thinks my attention will be on the cameras and the public."

A sudden alert blared from Damian’s encrypted wristwatch—a low, rhythmic pulse.

Red lights flashed on the monitor across the room.

"Breach on Level 4," Marco’s voice cracked over the earpiece. "Boss, it’s not Nikolai's men! It’s Julian Vance! He wasn't killed in the convoy—they extracted him! And he has an override key to the vault vents!"

"The vents!" I screamed, the world spinning. "The gas!"

Julian Vance hadn't been killed by the Romanovs; the Romanovs had freed him to do the dirty work. He knew every ventilation duct in the building. If he pumped neurotoxins into the safe room, Leah wouldn't stand a chance.

Damian pulled two pistols from beneath his jacket, his face contorting into an expression of demonic fury. "Clara, stay behind me!"