Adrian stared at Hannah’s picture. For weeks, he had tried to tell himself she was only the woman keeping Lucas alive. Then she’d become the voice in the kitchen, the scent of warm bread, the person who challenged him to hold his son — the first presence that had made the mansion feel less like a tomb.

Now an enemy believed Adrian could be forced to decide which of them mattered.

His private phone rang. Marcus’s calm voice filled the room. “You know why our family survived, Adrian. We remove weaknesses before others use them.”

“If you touch them—”

“I already have.”

“Marcus.” It was the first time Rourke had ever heard Adrian say another man’s name with such quiet fury.