“Then let’s jump,” I said without a second of hesitation.

Ethan looked at me, his eyes softening for the briefest fraction of a second. He touched my cheek with his gloved hand. “You never asked for this world, Clara. You married an accountant who claimed to have a quiet life.”

“I married the man who stood between me and every storm,” I answered, meeting his gaze. “Now we go get our daughter.”

The skiff climbed to thirty thousand feet, banking hard over the jagged coastline. The rear cargo ramp hissed open, admitting a deafening roar of sub-zero wind that stole the breath from my lungs. Below us, surrounded by jagged rocks and crashing black surf, the fortress loomed like a dormant leviathan.

Chap 57

The descent was a violent blur of clouds,

ice, and howling wind. The ocean rushed up to meet us like a slab of concrete. At eight hundred feet, our micro-chutes deployed with a jarring jerk, slowing our descent just enough for us to skim the churning whitecaps.

Ethan detached his harness mid-air, slicing into the icy waves with barely a splash. I followed a second later, the freezing saltwater stinging my face like a thousand needles.

We swam beneath the massive concrete sea gates, propelled by our motorized dive fins. The underwater cavern opened up into an enormous, subterranean hangar illuminated by harsh red emergency beacons. The *Nautilus-Nine* was moored to the central slipway, its decks crawling with dozens of heavily armed guards clad in black tactical armor.

Ethan pulled himself onto the maintenance catwalk, his silenced submachine gun already spitting suppressed rounds.

Three sentries collapsed into the dark water before their radios could even crackle. He reached down and hoisted me up beside him.

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the massive cavern’s ventilation system.

It was faint, muffled by steel and stone, but unmistakably clear to my ears.

It was Lily. She was singing.

It was the silly, made-up Christmas lullaby I had sung to her every night since she was an infant—the one about the little silver bear that guarded the winter stars. Her tiny voice trembled, punctuated by small, hiccuping sobs, but she kept singing, trying to keep herself brave in the dark.

Tears welled in my eyes, burning hot against the cold salt on my cheeks.

“She’s alive,” I whispered, my voice choked with an unbearable mixture of agony and ferocious relief.

“She’s singing my song, Ethan.”

“She’s in the lower sanctum,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into a register of deadly calm. “They are preparing to open the vault. Clara… stay close to my flank. Shoot anything that moves.”

Chap 58

We breached the blast doors of the lowest level, the steel plates groaning under the force of our shaped thermite charges.

Beyond lay a breathtaking, horrifying chamber.

It looked like an ancient cathedral carved from raw obsidian, lined with massive bronze statues of old European warlords and sovereign monarchs. In the center of the hall stood an enormous circular door—the Black Vault—covered in intricate runic locks and biometric sensors that pulsed with crimson light.

Tied to a gilded chair directly in front of the vault was our little girl.

Lily looked so tiny against the vast, towering gloom of the chamber, her pink winter coat stained with dust.

Standing behind her was an old man with eyes like shards of broken glass. Emperor Vladimir Vance held an ornate, gold-hilted dagger in his right hand, resting the flat of the cold blade against the arm of Lily’s chair. Surrounding him were twelve Praetorian guards, their heavy machine guns aimed directly at the shattered doorway.

“Step out of the shadows, Grandson,” Vladimir’s booming voice echoed off the obsidian walls. “Or your child loses more than just a vial of blood.”

Ethan and I stepped through the smoke, lowering our weapons just enough to show our hands, but keeping our fingers curled tightly around the triggers.

“Mama! Daddy!” Lily wailed, kicking her little legs against the chair. “I want to go home! I don’t like the bad grandpa!”

“Be brave, sweetie,” I called out, my heart bleeding inside my ribs. “Mama is right here. Look at me, Lily. Look only at Mama.”

“Quiet, wretched child,” Vladimir snapped coldly, not even looking at her. He turned his chilling gaze toward Ethan. “You look just like your father. Weak. Sentimental. Infected by the poison of the common world. You thought you could leave the syndicate behind, Ethan? You thought you could play house in a suburban neighborhood and pretend you weren’t born to rule?”

“Let her go, Vladimir,” Ethan said, his voice flat, devoid of any fear. “This fight is between you and me. She knows nothing of your sovereign bloodlines. She is three years old.”

Chap 59

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