BOUND BY BLOOD AND ICE

Emily stared at Dominic in utter disbelief. “Fiancée? Are you insane? You’re a mob boss! I am not pretending to marry a criminal!”

Dominic stood up slowly, towering over her. The sheer aura of power radiating from him made her step back until the back of her legs hit a leather armchair.

“You think this is a game?” Dominic’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “My wife was murdered five years ago by a car bomb intended for me. Since then, I have kept Lily and Grace hidden behind bulletproof glass and private tutors. Yesterday, my head of personal security, Arthur Reed—a man I trusted for a decade—sold the girls’ transit route to Viktor Volkov for ten million dollars.”

He took another step, trapping her in his space. “Volkov doesn’t just want to kill me, Emily. He wants to tear my empire apart by taking my children. The only reason Lily and Grace are alive is you. They don’t trust my guards. They don’t trust their doctors. They trust you.”

Emily swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. “And the fake engagement?”

“Volkov believes I am cold, untouchable, and impervious to emotional leverage. If he thinks you are merely a civilian witness, he will slaughter you to send a message. But if the world believes you are the future Mrs. Vale, any move against you triggers an all-out blood war among the five families. It buys us time to hunt Volkov down.”

Dominic reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a velvet box. Inside rested an enormous emerald-cut diamond ring flanked by platinum baguettes.

“Take it,” he commanded softly. “In exchange, your mother’s remaining medical debts—all seventy-two thousand dollars of it—are cleared tonight. UIC medical school tuition will be paid in full under an anonymous trust. And when Volkov is in the ground, you walk away with five million dollars in clean bearer bonds.”

Emily looked at the ring, then up into Dominic’s dark, enigmatic eyes. She saw the ruthless warlord, but behind that steel veneer, she also saw a desperate father fighting a war on all fronts.

Before she could answer, the mansion’s lights flickered once, twice, and died.

The crimson emergency floodlights immediately bathed the room in a bloody glow. An electronic siren wailed through the walls.

Dominic drew his SIG Sauer in a split second, reaching under his desk to rack a tactical Benelli shotgun.

“Perimeter breach at Gate Three,” a guard’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Kill squad inside the courtyard! Power lines are cut!”

Dominic grabbed Emily’s arm, his grip iron-tight. “The panic room is in the master suite. Get to the girls. Do not open that door for anyone except me.”