Sofia had fallen in seconds. The head of her security team had taken a bullet in the back, his body collapsing in front of her. Several more of their men were down, too. Only Matteo's quick thinking and instincts had allowed him to drag Arabella away before the final blow was struck.

Her mother was gone.

Arabella, still in shock, wasn't fully aware of the magnitude of it, but the way she gripped his sleeve told Matteo she felt the weight of the loss. The future donna, he thought. She would become one soon enough. He could already see it—in the hardness of her gaze, in the unnatural stillness of her composure.

She was strong. Stronger than any child he'd ever known.

The world seemed to slow as the car pulled into the estate, the gates opening just enough to let them through. Around them, the family's men moved with grim purpose—gathering weapons, issuing orders, preparing to head out to the site of the attack. Their voices were muffled, distant, like a storm just out of reach. But none of it mattered. Not yet. The only thing that mattered now was getting Arabella back to her father.