Chapter 1 - THE BLOOD ON MY CRESTBlood was running from my housekeeper's mouth when they carried her through the gates of my Manhattan mansion.
And when I saw my family crest soaked red on her torn uniform, something inside me awakened that I had spent years burying.
I had watched powerful men die without blinking.
I had ordered men removed from my empire without losing sleep.
But when I looked at Emma Carter lying unconscious in Marco's arms, my hands curled into fists.
"Who did this to her?"
The room went silent.
Marco stood beneath the entrance lights, rain dripping from his black coat onto the marble floor.
"She was breathing when I found her," he said. "Barely."
I moved toward them.
"Put her down."
Marco carefully lowered Emma onto the long leather sofa.
My private physician, Dr. Bennett, rushed forward.
"Everyone out."
Nobody moved.
I looked around.
"Now."
The guards disappeared.
Only Marco, Lucia, Dr. Bennett, and I remained.
Emma's hair was soaked with rain. Her white collar was stained red. One sleeve had been torn almost completely away.
I had seen violence before.
Too much of it.
But seeing her like that felt different.
Because Emma Carter had never belonged in my world.
For fourteen months, she had moved through my mansion almost invisibly.
She polished the antique furniture.
Changed the flowers.
Folded towels.
Prepared breakfast when Lucia asked.
She never stared at the expensive paintings.
Never asked about the men who stood outside my office.
Never tried to discover what happened behind the locked doors on the third floor.
She simply worked.
Quietly.
Efficiently.
And somehow, I had noticed her.
I knew she always drank coffee without sugar.
I knew she hummed when she cleaned.
I knew she rubbed her right shoulder whenever she was exhausted.
And I knew she was working herself into the ground.
Lucia had told me why.
Her mother had cancer.
Her nineteen-year-old brother, Noah, had lost both legs after being hit by a truck.
Emma worked three jobs.
My mansion in the morning.
A bar in Hell's Kitchen at night.
Office cleaning on weekends.
Sometimes she slept on subway trains between shifts.
I had told myself none of it was my business.
That was how men like me survived.
We didn't become attached.
Attachment created weakness.
Weakness created enemies.
And enemies eventually found something you loved.
So I had watched Emma from a distance.
Until tonight.
"Her ribs are badly bruised," Dr. Bennett said.
I looked at him.
"Broken?"
"One may be fractured. Her head took a serious blow. She has a concussion."
My jaw tightened.
"Will she survive?"
"Yes."
The word should have relieved me.
It didn't.
Emma suddenly moved.
Her fingers twitched.
I stepped closer.
Her eyes opened halfway.
"Emma."
She looked confused.
Then frightened.
"Where..."
"You're home."
Her eyes moved around the room.
"Your brother..."
"Noah?"
She nodded weakly.
"He's safe."
I didn't know if he was, but I had already sent Marco to confirm it.
Emma's breathing eased.
"Who did this?"
She closed her eyes.
I leaned closer.
"Emma. Look at me."
Her eyes opened.
"They..."
Her voice broke.
"Who?"
She swallowed.
"Two men."
"What did they want?"
"My phone."
"Did you give it to them?"
"Yes."
"Then why did they hurt you?"
Tears gathered in her eyes.
"One saw..."
She looked down at the torn uniform.
"Your crest."
The room became still.
"What happened after that?"
"He said..."
She coughed.
I waited.
"He said Kolov would like this."
Marco's face changed.
"Kolov?"
I turned toward him.
"You know the name?"
Marco nodded slowly.
"Viktor Kolov."
A name I hadn't heard spoken aloud in years.
My father's oldest enemy.
A man who had disappeared after the Castellano-Kolov war ended.
I had believed he was dead.
Apparently, I had been wrong.
I looked back at Emma.
"Did they say anything else?"
She closed her eyes.
"They said..."
Her breathing became shallow.
"They said you think you own New York."
I stood slowly.
"Who told them to come after you?"
She whispered one word.
"Kolov."
Then she passed out.
Marco stepped beside me.
"Boss."
I looked at him.
"Find them."
"Both?"
"Everyone connected to them."
"And Kolov?"
I stared through the enormous windows at Manhattan.
Rain blurred the city lights.
"Find him first."
Lucia approached.
"Dominic..."
I turned.
She looked toward Emma.
"She isn't one of us."
"I know."
"Then why do you look like you're about to start a war?"
I didn't answer.
Because I already knew.
The men who attacked Emma had made one mistake.
They hadn't attacked a random woman.
They had attacked someone who worked under my roof.
Someone wearing my crest.
Someone who had become, without my permission, important to me.
And if Viktor Kolov wanted a war...
I would give him one.
But I would choose the battlefield.
I walked toward the stairs.
"Marco."
"Yes?"
"Double security around the house."
"Done."
"And Noah Carter?"
"Already being watched."
"Good."
I stopped.
"Nobody tells Emma."
Marco frowned.
"Why?"
"Because she's already terrified."
I looked back at the sofa.
Emma lay unconscious beneath the warm blanket.
For the first time in years, I felt something I hated.
Fear.
Not for myself.
For her.
And that frightened me more than Kolov ever could.
May you like
Because I knew exactly what happened when a man like me started caring about someone.
He became willing to burn the world down.
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