Keep reading to see what unfolds next.

5 - 15

The barrel of the silenced submachine gun gleamed dully in the amber wash of the emergency floor strip. Liana’s mind raced through a dozen desperate scenarios, but every escape route was blocked by the sheer wall of the armoire and the open expanse of carpet separating her from the door.

If she moved, the intruder would fire. If she stayed, they would find her within seconds.

"I said step out!" the intruder barked, taking another deliberate step closer, their finger twitching nervously against the trigger guard. "Don't test my patience. The cleanup squad is sweeping the ground floor, and I don't have time to play hide-and-seek with a domestic worker."

Liana clutched Nico tighter against her chest. The baby shifted, letting out a soft, irritable murmur, his tiny fists bunching up near her collarbone. She knew she had to buy time—just a few seconds, just enough for Matteo or his guards to clear the courtyard and fight their way back up the grand staircase.

"You won't get away with him," Liana said, her voice steady and echoing clearly in the smoky silence of the nursery. She stepped out from behind the velvet armoire, placing herself directly in the amber light, shielding Nico’s body completely with her own torso. "Matteo Varric owns this entire city. The moment you walk out these front gates, his men will turn you inside out."

The intruder laughed—a harsh, barking sound lacking any real amusement. "Matteo Varric is currently occupied with a diversion unit at the western gate. By the time he realizes the primary objective was right here in the nursery, I’ll be fifty miles out over the bay in a private chopper."

The intruder took another step forward, the gun barrel lowering slightly to center on Liana’s heart. "Now, hand over the boy. Feet first, if you prefer him intact."

Liana didn't move. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her red uniform back, bracing herself to hurl her body sideways the second the trigger pulled.

"You're a traitor," Liana spat, keeping the intruder’s eyes locked on hers. "You’re the one who let them into St. Jude’s twenty-two days ago. You’re the one who swapped the babies."

The intruder’s eyes widened behind the balaclava—a micro-expression of pure, unadulterated shock that confirmed every single suspicion Liana had harbored since stepping foot in the mansion.

"You talk too much for a maid," the intruder snarled, raising the barrel sharply. "Time to die."

Bang.

The sound was not a muffled whisper from a silencer. It was a deafening, thunderous roar that shook the windows of the nursery.

But the bullet didn't hit Liana.

Instead, the intruder’s head snapped violently backward in a spray of dark crimson and bone fragments. The submachine gun dropped from their lifeless hand, clattering loudly against the wooden floorboards as the masked figure collapsed forward like a felled oak, dead before they even hit the carpet.

Liana gasped, stumbling back against the armoire.

Standing in the doorway, wreathed in wisps of acrid white smoke and holding a smoking, heavy-caliber Sig Sauer pistol with both hands, was Matteo Varric.