At twelve years old, I risked my life to save a drowning man—only to discover minutes later that I had pulled the most feared mafia boss in the city from the river.

The digital clock on the stone fireplace read 2:14 AM. The cabin was utterly silent except for the faint hum of the air filtration system and the crackle of a secure laptop terminal set up on the dining table.

Jax sat in front of the screen, the blue light illuminating the sharp angles of his face and the short graying hairs in his beard. He typed furiously, his fingers flying across the keyboard as encrypted data streams scrolled down the monitor.

Across the room, Leo had finally fallen asleep. Curled up on the large leather sofa with a woolen blanket pulled over his shoulders, his breathing was slow and even. The dark circles under his big hazel eyes highlighted just how much stress the young boy had endured in the past twelve hours.

Jax glanced over his shoulder, watching the boy for a long moment before turning back to the screen. A decrypted audio file popped up on the monitor. It was an intercept from a burner phone traced to an abandoned warehouse down by the old maritime docks—territory controlled by Marcus Sterling, Jax’s former chief operating officer and the man who had orchestrated the coup.

Jax clicked play. The audio was slightly muffled, but the voices were crystal clear.

"The target survived the bridge incident," a cold, sharp voice said. It was Sterling.

"And the boy?" a second voice asked.

"Irrelevant. But our people grabbed the mother from Maple Street just in case Vance tries to go underground. Bring her to the maritime holding facility. Once Vance realizes we have her, he'll crawl out of whatever hole he's hiding in."

Jax’s jaw tightened until the bone ached. He hit pause, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the wooden table. The maritime holding facility. It was an old fish-processing plant on Pier 42, heavily fortified and watched by armed mercenaries.

He reached down and touched the heavy gold watch on his wrist, a habit he had whenever he needed to anchor himself. He needed a tactical plan, and he needed it now. His own security detail outside was formidable, but walking into Pier 42 guns blazing would put Sarah Miller directly in the line of fire. He needed precision, stealth, and absolute surprise.

A soft rustle from the sofa made Jax look up. Leo was stirring, blinking sleepily against the light. The boy pushed the blanket aside and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Did you find her?" Leo asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Jax closed the laptop lid, cutting off the audio file. He walked over and sat on the coffee table facing the boy, his expression calm but resolute.

"I found where they took her, Leo," Jax said quietly. "Pier 42. An old warehouse by the water."

Leo’s eyes cleared instantly. He swung his legs over the edge of the sofa. "Are we going to get her?"