I showed up at my husband’s office holding our 6-year-old daughter’s hand to surprise him with dinner, only for his secretary to step in my path and smirk that his real wife and son were already upstairs waiting.

I threw open Grace's door.

The room was dark. The window was open, the curtains blowing in the wind.

Grace's bed was empty.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be happening again. Not now. Not after everything.

“Grace!” I screamed, running to the bed. The covers were still warm. Her stuffed animals were scattered across the pillow. Crusher the T-Rex lay on the floor, his head twisted at a wrong angle.

Footsteps thundered down the hall.

Marcus burst in, gun drawn, followed by James and William.

“What is it?” Marcus demanded. Then he saw the empty bed. The open window.

“Gone,” I whispered. “She's gone again.”

Marcus was already moving. He leaned out the window, scanning the darkness.

“Rope ladder,” he said. “They climbed up from the garden. The security team on this side... they're not answering their radios.”

He was on his phone in a second, barking orders. Alarms blared through the house. Men were running everywhere. Flashlights swept the gardens, the woods, the lake.

James had his arm around me, holding me up as my legs threatened to give out.

“Not again,” I sobbed. “Please God, not again.”

Victoria came running in, Oliver behind her, both of them in their pajamas. When she saw the empty bed, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Oliver's face went white.

“Grace?” he said. “Where is she?”

No one answered.

Marcus came back in ten minutes later. His face was like stone.

“The two men on the east side are dead,” he said. “Shot. Execution style. The others saw nothing. Whoever did this knew exactly where to go. Exactly when the patrols changed. Exactly how to get in and out without being seen.”

He looked at me.

“Nathan's letter, Em. What did it say? You were holding it when we came in.”

I handed him the letter. He read it quickly, then passed it to James and William.

“Thirty years,” William said, his voice tight. “Our father destroyed his father. He married Emily to get revenge. And he's been working with other enemies all along.”

“Who?” James said. “Who would hold a grudge against Dad for thirty years? Who has the resources to pull off something like this—to get past our security, to kill two of our best men, to take Grace right out from under our noses?”

Marcus was already thinking.

“Dad had a lot of enemies back in the day,” he said. “Men he put out of business. Men he sent to prison. Men who lost everything. But most of them are dead now. Or too old. The only ones with the money and the reach to do this...”

He paused.

“The Rizzos,” he said.

The name hung in the air.

The Rizzo family.

The most powerful crime family in New York. For decades, they'd been the Carters' greatest rivals. My father had broken their hold on the construction unions in the seventies. He'd testified against their boss in the eighties, sending him to prison for life. The Rizzos had sworn revenge.

But they'd been quiet for years. Lying low. Rebuilding.

“They've been lying in wait,” Marcus said. “All these years. Waiting for the right moment. And Nathan gave it to them. He gave them everything they needed—our security protocols, our routines, our weaknesses. For eight years, he was their inside man.”

He looked out the open window.

“Taking Grace wasn't random,” he said. “It's the next phase of the plan. Nathan is in jail, but the Rizzos are still out there. And they're using Grace to finish what Nathan started.”

My phone rang.

Unknown number.

Everyone froze.

“Answer it,” Marcus said. “Speaker.”

I hit answer.

“Emily Carter.”

A man's voice. Deep. Gravelly. Italian accent.

“Who is this?” I demanded.

“You know who this is,” he said. “We go way back. Your father and I. Old friends. Old enemies.”

“Rizzo,” Marcus said.

The man laughed.

“Marcus. Good. You're all there. Listen carefully. I have the little girl. She's fine. For now. But every hour you make me wait... well. Accidents happen.”

“What do you want?” James said.

“Simple,” Rizzo said. “Your father took everything from me thirty years ago. My business. My reputation. My brother. Now I'm going to take everything from him. Starting with his favorite granddaughter.”

He paused.

“Here's the deal. You will transfer one billion dollars into an account I will give you. You will sign over all Carter-owned properties in the five boroughs to me. And Senator Carter... you will publicly resign from the Senate. You will admit to every corruption charge I send you. You will destroy the Carter name forever. Just like your father destroyed mine.”

“And if we don't?” William said.

“Then the little girl dies,” Rizzo said, his voice flat. “I'll send her back to you in pieces. One a day, until you agree. And then I'll come for the rest of you. One by one. Starting with the boy.”

Oliver flinched. Victoria pulled him closer.

“You have twenty-four hours,” Rizzo said. “No police. No FBI. No tricks. If I smell even one cop, I kill her. And then I kill everyone you love. Do we understand each other?”

“We understand,” James said.

“Good. I'll call tomorrow with the transfer details. And remember... every second you waste is a second closer to her death.”

The line went dead.

The room was silent.

A billion dollars.

All our New York properties.

James's resignation.

The end of the Carter legacy.

Or Grace's life.

“We can't pay him,” Marcus said immediately. “If we give in once, he'll keep coming back. For more money. More power. He'll never stop. And he'll probably kill Grace anyway, just to tie up loose ends.”

“We can't just let him kill her!” I shouted. “She's six years old! She's my daughter!”

“No one is saying that,” William said, putting a hand on my arm. “But Marcus is right. The Rizzos don't leave witnesses. If we pay, we lose everything—our money, our name, our power—and we still lose Grace. We have to find her. Now. Before the twenty-four hours are up.”

“How?” I said. “They could be anywhere. Upstate. New Jersey. Canada. We have no leads. No clues.”

“We have Nathan,” James said quietly.

We all looked at him.

“Nathan knows who they are,” he said. “He knows how they operate. He knows their safe houses, their patterns, their weaknesses. He's been working with them for eight years. If anyone can tell us where they'd take Grace, it's him.”

“You want to make a deal with Nathan?” Marcus said, outraged. “After everything he did? After he kidnapped her once already?”

“I want to do whatever it takes to get Grace back,” James said. “If that means sitting across a table from the devil himself, so be it. He's the only lead we have.”

He looked at me.

“Em? What do you think?”

I thought about Nathan's letter. About the hatred he felt for my family. About the fact that he'd helped plan this.

But I also thought about Grace. About her sitting in some dark room, scared, wondering when her mother was coming for her.

I'd do anything.

Anything.

“Make the call,” I said.

An hour later, we were at the maximum-security facility where Nathan was being held.

It was two in the morning. The warden, a man who owed James more favors than he could count, had arranged the meeting. No lawyers. No FBI. No records. Just us and Nathan.

He was brought in wearing an orange jumpsuit, his hands and feet in chains. He had a black eye—someone had already gotten to him in general population.

When he saw us, he smiled.

“Family reunion,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut the crap, Nathan,” Marcus said, leaning across the table. “The Rizzos have Grace. We know you've been working with them. We know you helped them plan this. Tell us where they took her. Now.”

Nathan's smile didn't falter.

“The Rizzos,” he said, nodding slowly. “I wondered when they'd make their move. They're not patient men. Never have been.”

“Where is she, Nathan?” I said, my voice breaking. “Please. She's your daughter too.”

Nathan looked at me. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—regret? Sadness? Love?

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Grace is fine,” he said. “The Rizzos are many things, but they don't hurt children. Not unless they have to. She's warm. She's fed. She's scared, but she's alive. For now.”

“Tell us where she is,” James said. “And we'll make it worth your while. Better prison conditions. Witness protection. A reduced sentence. Whatever you want.”

Nathan laughed.

“Reduced sentence? Senator, I'm looking at life plus a hundred years. There is no 'reduced.' There is no getting out. I'm going to die in here. And you know what? I'm okay with that. Because I won. I destroyed your family's reputation. I cost you hundreds of millions. And now the Rizzos are going to finish the job. I won, James. No matter what happens to me, I won.”

He leaned forward, the chains clinking.

“But I'll make you a deal,” he said. “I'll tell you exactly where they're keeping Grace. I'll give you the address, the security codes, the patrol schedules. Everything you need to get her back alive.”

“What's the price?” William said.

Nathan looked directly at me.

“Emily,” he said. “You come with me.”

The room went silent.

“What?” I said.

“You heard me,” he said. “You get me out of here. You arrange for me to have a new identity, enough money to live on for the rest of my life, safe passage out of the country. And then... you come with me. You leave the Carters. You leave Grace. You come be my wife. Like we were always supposed to be. Just you and me. Together. Like it was in the beginning.”

“You're insane,” Marcus said.

“Maybe,” Nathan said. “But I'm the only one who knows where Grace is. And the clock is ticking. Rizzo said twenty-four hours? He means it. Every hour that passes, Grace gets more scared. And Rizzo gets more impatient. Tick tock, Carters. Tick tock.”

I stared at him.

The man I'd loved.

The man who'd betrayed me.

The man who was now offering me an impossible choice.

Leave my family. Leave my daughter. Spend the rest of my life with the monster who'd destroyed everything.

Or let Grace die.

I looked at my brothers. Their faces were grim. They were shaking their heads. Don't do it, Em. Don't give in. We'll find another way.

But what other way?

We had twenty hours left. No leads. No clues. No time.