I picked up Sophia, resting her head gently against my shoulder, and stepped into the private elevator. The doors closed, sealing out the lobby, and the car accelerated toward the ninety-fifth floor with a silent, breathless speed.

When the elevator chimed at the top, the doors opened directly into the grand ballroom of Vanguard Horizon. The penthouse was a monument to old-money excess: soaring glass walls overlooking a rain-slicked Manhattan skyline, hundreds of wealthy investors in black-tie attire sipping champagne, and a live orchestra playing soft Vivaldi.

Right in the center of the room stood Dominic.

He looked immaculate in a custom-tailored Tom Ford tuxedo, a sparkling diamond cufflink catching the light as he laughed. Clinging tightly to his arm was a younger woman in a backless, emerald-green silk gown.

Seated with them at the VIP table were my in-laws, smiling smugly at a group of city council members, alongside a nine-year-old boy in a miniature tuxedo that matched Dominic’s exactly.

Dominic raised his glass, gesturing toward the woman on his arm. “To the new matriarch of Vanguard’s future,” he projected proudly to his inner circle.