Vera’s POV

The world had narrowed to a single point: the cold press of the gun barrel against my daughter’s head.

I could hear nothing but the frantic drum of Vanessa’s heartbeat, muffled against my chest. The storm raged above us rain pelting the docks, thunder rolling across the river but all I could feel was her trembling body and the weight of fear trying to crush my lungs.

“Choose, Don Bellanti,” the scarred man hissed. “Your crown, or your child.”

His words hung in the air ...