Dante POV
"Have you lost your mind?"
Lorenzo burst through my office doors without knocking, his face red with anger. Behind him, two of my guards looked apologetic—nobody stopped my brother when he was this furious.
"Good morning to you too," I said calmly, not looking up from the warehouse blueprints spread across my desk. Twelve hours to save Sofia and Vanessa. Eleven hours and forty-three minutes now. Every second counted.
"Don't 'good morning' me." Lorenzo slammed his hands on my desk. "You bought a wrestling contract? Brought a complete stranger into our home? The men are talking, Dante. They think you've gone soft. They think she's—"
"Careful." My voice dropped to ice. "Very careful how you finish that sentence."
Lorenzo's jaw clenched. We'd been brothers for thirty-two years, partners in this business for fifteen. He knew that tone. Knew when he was crossing a line.
But he crossed it anyway.
"They think she's using you. That she's a spy for Russo, or a gold digger who saw a rich mark, or—" He gestured wildly. "Hell, Dante, nobody knows what to think. You've been obsessed with this girl for two years, and now suddenly she's living here? Sleeping in a nursery you built? What am I supposed to tell the family?"
"The truth." I finally looked up at him. "That I'm protecting someone who saved Sofia's life. Someone who deserves better than what the world's given her."
"Sofia?" Lorenzo's anger flickered with confusion. "What does Sofia have to do with—"
The office door opened again. Shayla stood there, pale and shaking, holding her phone like it was a weapon.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt, but—" Her voice cracked. "My mother just called."
Every protective instinct I had roared to life. I was around the desk in seconds. "What did she say?"
"She saw the news. About Vanessa being kidnapped." Shayla's hands trembled. "She said it's my fault. That if I'd just given Vanessa money like a good sister, none of this would've happened. That I'm selfish and—" Her breath hitched. "She said I deserve everything bad that happens to me because I'm broken and—"
"Stop." I took the phone gently from her hands. "Not another word of that poison."
Lorenzo was staring at us, his anger replaced by shock.
Shayla's eyes were filling with tears, her breathing getting faster. I recognized the signs—panic attack building, Little space approaching. She needed safety, needed comfort, but my brother was watching and she was fighting it so hard.
"It's okay, baby girl," I said softly, not caring that Lorenzo heard. "You can be little. You're safe."
"But—" She glanced at Lorenzo, fear and shame mixing on her face. "He's here. He'll think I'm crazy, he'll tell everyone, and they'll—"
"Nobody will hurt you." I cupped her face gently. "I promise. Do you need Daddy right now?"
The word hung in the air. Lorenzo's eyes went wide.
Shayla nodded, tears spilling over. "Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry, I tried to be big, but Mommy was so mean and—"
Her voice had changed. Younger, smaller, helpless. She was slipping fast.
"Shh, I've got you." I pulled her close, and she buried her face in my chest. "Lorenzo, leave. Now."
"Dante, what the hell is—"
"Out!" I roared.
He went, but I knew he'd wait in the hallway. Knew this conversation wasn't over.
But Shayla needed me more than my brother's questions did.
I carried her to the leather couch, settling her in my lap. She curled into me, small and scared, her hands clutching my shirt.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't mean to make him mad."
"You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Nothing at all." I stroked her hair. "Your mother was cruel. She said terrible things that aren't true."
"But Vanessa got taken because of me. And Sofia too. Mommy's right—I ruin everything."
My heart cracked. "Listen to me very carefully, baby girl. Bad people did bad things. That's not your fault. Russo took them, not you. Derek helped him, not you. You're the victim here."
"But—"
"No buts." I kept my voice firm but gentle. "You saved Sofia two years ago. Remember? I told you about the warehouse."
She nodded against my chest.
"You were getting groceries. You saw a little girl crying outside a building. You didn't know she'd been kidnapped by traffickers targeting my family. You didn't know she was my niece. You just saw a scared child and stopped to help."
"She was so little," Shayla whispered, her voice still young. "She said bad men took her from school. So I called the police and stayed with her until they came. I gave her my stuffed bear so she wouldn't be scared."
"That bear saved her life. The police tracked the traffickers because you called. You're a hero, Shayla. Not broken. Not selfish. A hero."
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "Daddy? Can you make Mommy stop being mean?"
"Yes. I'll make sure she never hurts you again."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She relaxed slightly, her breathing evening out. I held her, checking my watch. Eleven hours and twenty minutes left. Sofia and Vanessa were running out of time, but Shayla needed these few minutes of comfort. Needed to know someone chose her, even when the world was ending.
The door opened quietly. Lorenzo stepped in, his face completely different now. Stunned. Understanding.
"Is she—" he started.
"Little space," I explained quietly. "Age regression. It's therapeutic. Helps her cope with trauma and anxiety. Her therapist recommended it years ago."
Lorenzo stared at Shayla, who was tucking herself smaller against me, thumb drifting toward her mouth.
"The video that leaked," he said slowly. "The one that destroyed her reputation. It was this?"
"Yes. Her ex-boyfriend and sister filmed her during a private therapy session. Posted it online to humiliate her."
"That's—" Lorenzo's hands clenched. "That's evil."
"Now you understand why I protect her."
My brother moved closer, kneeling beside the couch. "Hey, Shayla? I'm Lorenzo. Dante's brother."
She peeked at him nervously. "Hi."
"I'm sorry I yelled earlier. That wasn't fair. And I'm really sorry about your mom being mean." He smiled gently. "My mom used to say mean things too, when I was little. It hurt a lot."
Shayla's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Really. But Dante always made her stop. He's good at protecting people he cares about." Lorenzo glanced at me. "The best, actually."
Something in my chest loosened. My brother understood. Finally.
Shayla's phone buzzed on the desk. We all tensed.
I reached for it carefully, saw the caller ID. "It's Dr. Chen. Your therapist."
"Answer it," Shayla said, her voice getting slightly bigger. "She helps when I'm scared."
I put it on speaker. "Dr. Chen?"
"Mr. Salvatore?" Her voice was tight with worry. "Is Shayla there? I just received a very disturbing call from someone claiming to have information about her sister's kidnapping."
My blood went cold. "What kind of information?"
"They said they know where Vanessa is being held. They said they'd trade the location for something valuable." Dr. Chen paused. "They want Shayla's therapy records. All of them. Every session note, every diagnosis, every vulnerable moment documented. They said if I don't deliver them in three hours, Vanessa dies."
Shayla gasped. Lorenzo cursed.
"Who was it?" I demanded.
"They didn't give a name. But—" Dr. Chen's voice shook. "The voice was familiar. I think it was Marcus Holloway. Her old manager."
The pieces clicked together horribly. Marcus wanted those records to destroy Shayla completely. To prove she was mentally unstable, unfit to wrestle, unfit for custody or contracts or anything. He'd use her own healing against her.
"Don't give him anything," I ordered. "I'll handle this."
"Mr. Salvatore, if Vanessa dies because I didn't—"
"She won't. I promise." I ended the call.
Shayla was shaking again, tears streaming. "He wants to take everything from me. Even my private thoughts. Even the safe space with Dr. Chen."
"He won't get them," I swore. "I'll—"
My phone exploded with an alert. Security breach. Main gate.
Lorenzo jumped up, pulling his gun. "What now?"
The security camera feed popped up on my computer screen. My blood turned to ice.
A black van had crashed through our front gate. Men in masks poured out, heavily armed. Leading them was a face I recognized from surveillance photos.
Antonio. My cousin. The traitor.
And he was carrying something that made my heart stop.
A small pink backpack covered in unicorn stickers.
Sofia's backpack. The one she'd had at school this morning.
Lorenzo saw it too. "No. They can't be here. They can't—"
The intercom crackled. Antonio's voice filled the room, cold and amused.
"Hello, cousin. Surprise visit. We brought some friends who really want to meet your little wrestler. Oh, and Dante? We left Sofia somewhere special. You have thirty minutes to find her before the building she's in explodes. Choose wisely—save the kid, or protect your new toy. You can't do both."
The feed went black.
Gunfire erupted downstairs.
They were inside.