NO MERCY FOR THE ONES WHO BROKE YOU

Pierce bolted back up the grand staircase two steps at a time, drawing a small, concealed firearm from his inner pocket. He kicked open the nursery door.

The French balcony door had been smashed open. A masked man dressed in black courier clothing had Claire pinned against the changing table, his forearm pressing against her throat. In his other arm, bundled in a dark tactical carrier, was four-month-old Leo.

""Back off, old man!"" the intruder hissed in broken English, flashing a combat knife. ""One step and I drop him off the terrace!""

Claire choked, her face turning crimson, but she fought relentlessly, scratching at the man's exposed wrists. ""Leo... take Leo...!""

Pierce didn't hesitate. He didn't shout. He calculated the distance, the lighting, and the line of fire in a fraction of a second. Instead of advancing, Pierce kicked a heavy oak footstool across the slick parquet floor with explosive force.

The stool slammed into the intruder’s shins. The man lost balance, stumbling toward the shattered terrace doors. Claire broke free, grabbing the knife arm and biting down viciously into his forearm.

The intruder cried out, releasing his grip on the baby carrier. Pierce caught the carrier by the harness an inch before it hit the floor, swinging his grandson into the safety of his chest.

With a single fluid strike, Pierce drove his fist into the intruder's jaw, sending the man sprawling onto the balcony tiles among shards of glass.

Security guards rushed in from the hall, pinning the intruder to the ground and pulling off his balaclava. It was Derek's personal driver.

Pierce checked Leo, who was screaming loudly but entirely uninjured. He handed the child to Claire, who collapsed into a chair, rocking her baby with desperate prayers.

Pierce stepped out onto the balcony, looking down at the groaning driver. He reached into the man's pocket and pulled out an encrypted GPS tracker and a single burner phone.