Nathan’s face was hard as he led Duncan down the narrow stairs into the dimly lit basement. The air was cool and smelled of damp concrete. In the center of the room, Catherine was lashed to a heavy wooden chair, her wrists and ankles bound tight with thick rope. Her expensive hair was a mess, and her makeup was smudged, but when she saw them, she didn’t look afraid. She looked like she was winning.

"Look at the two of you," Catherine sneered, her voice echoing off the cold walls. "The pathetic father and the lovesick hero. It’s almost touching."

Duncan stepped forward, his hands shaking. He looked at the girl he had helped raise, the girl he had given everything to while his own daughter suffered in silence. "How could you do it, Catherine? How could you hire someone to run down your own sister? To sell her like a piece of meat to a Russian mobster?"

Catherine let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Sister? She was an obstacle, Duncan. She was the one everyone loved, the one Nathan wanted, the one who was going to inherit everything while I played the ’stepdaughter.’ I didn’t sell her. I traded her for a life where I didn’t have to live in her shadow."

"You’re a monster," Nathan growled, stepping into her personal space. "And you’re going to prison for the rest of your life. Marek and Silas have your confession on tape. It’s over."

"Is it?" Catherine’s eyes flashed with a sudden, wicked light. She tilted her head toward her waist. "You guys are so worried about ’Russian thugs’ that you forgot how technology works. Did you really think I’d come to a warehouse without a backup plan?"

Nathan’s stomach did a slow roll. He looked down and saw a tiny, rhythmic red light blinking beneath the fabric of her skirt, right against her hip. A tracking device.

"You bitch," Nathan hissed. He reached down and ripped the device off her skin, crushing it under his boot, but he knew he was too late.

Suddenly, a loud, electronic chirp came from Nathan’s pocket. He pulled out his phone. The security perimeter of the villa had been breached. Three armored vehicles were currently smashing through the front gates.

"He’s here," Nathan said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Who’s here?" Duncan asked, his face going pale.

"Nikolai," Nathan answered. He turned to Duncan with a fierce intensity. "Take Fiona. Get to the panic room in the basement. It’s behind the wine cellar wall. Go now!"

Nathan ran back up the stairs, his boots thudding on the wood. He found Fiona standing in the hallway, clutching her robe. She looked terrified, the loud alarms making her flinch.

"Nathan! What is that noise? What’s happening?"

Nathan grabbed her shoulders. "Fiona, listen to me. A very dangerous man is outside. I need you to go with your father into the panic room. Stay there. Do not open the door for anyone but me."

"But Nathan!" she cried, her voice rising in panic. "Who is Nikolai? Why is everyone saying that name? Is he the man from my dreams? The one in the snow?"

"He’s the man who took you away from me," Nathan said, kissing her forehead quickly. "And I’m the man who’s going to make sure he never does it again. Go!"

Duncan grabbed Fiona’s hand and pulled her toward the hidden door. Fiona was sobbing, her mind a mess of old memories and new fears. "Who is Nikolai?" she kept asking, but the sound was drowned out by the first crash of the front door being kicked in.

Nathan stood in the foyer, his gun drawn. He watched the heavy oak doors splinter as Nikolai Volkov stepped inside. Nikolai wasn’t hiding anymore. He wore a long black coat, and his eyes were cold as ice. He looked around the beautiful villa with a look of pure ownership.

"Нейтан," (Nathan,) Nikolai said, his voice smooth and terrifying. "You have something of mine. I’ve come to take it back."

"She was never yours, Nikolai," Nathan said, leveling his gun. "She was a prisoner. And the prison is closed."

Nikolai stepped forward, the glass from the broken door crunching under his boots. "She has a son, Nathan. Mateo asks for his mother every night. Do you think she will thank you for making her a stranger to her own blood? Give her to me, and I will let you live."

"No," Nathan said. "You’re not leaving this house."

Down in the panic room, Fiona sat on the floor, staring at the small black-and-white security monitor. She saw the man in the black coat. She saw his lips move. And suddenly, like a dam breaking, a name she hadn’t said in years echoed in her soul.

"Mateo," she whispered.

Duncan looked at her, horrified. "Fiona? What did you say?"

"I have a son," Fiona said, her eyes turning sharp and dark. "I have a son and his father is standing in our living room trying to kill the man I love."

######

The sound of the first shot was like a crack of thunder, and then the whole foyer exploded into chaos. Nathan dived behind the marble kitchen island, his chest heaving as he traded shots with Nikolai’s men. He was holding them back, his aim steady and lethal, until he heard a sound that made his soul freeze.

"Nathan! Stop! Please!"

He looked over his shoulder and his heart nearly stopped. Fiona had managed to push past her father and was running straight into the middle of the foyer. She was terrified, her eyes wide as she looked at the shattered glass and the men with guns. She didn’t understand the crossfire; she just wanted the nightmare to end.

"Fiona, get down!" Nathan screamed.

He saw the gunmen adjust their aim toward the movement in the hall. Without a moment of hesitation, Nathan lunged forward, throwing himself in front of Fiona just as a volley of shots rang out. He felt the heavy impact of the bullets, the force knocking them both to the ground, but he made sure he was the one between her and the danger.

Fiona let out a piercing scream as they hit the floor. Nathan remained draped over her, his breathing heavy and labored, his arms still locked around her to ensure her safety.

Nikolai, seeing the scene unfold from the doorway, turned pale with shock and fury. He realized in an instant that the crossfire had almost claimed the person he cared for most.

"Прекратить огонь! Идиоты, прекратите стрелять!" Nikolai roared in Russian, his voice echoing through the foyer. "Cease fire! That was my wife! Why did you shoot?"