NOBODY TOUCHES MY DATE

Dawn broke over the horizon, painting the sky in pale pink and steel gray. Dante stood in his basement tactical office, reviewing encrypted data files Victor had pulled from the attackers’ abandoned burner phone.

“It’s Hector Vargas,” Victor said grimly, leaning over the glass monitor. “Elena’s late husband, Mark, was Vargas’s chief accountant before he died in a car crash two years ago. Mark stole an encrypted ledger containing Vargas’s entire money-laundering network. Vargas thinks Elena has it.”

“Does she?” Dante asked.

“Mark died penniless, leaving her drowning in medical debt. If she had millions, she wouldn’t be working double shifts as a diner waitress across town to buy Mia second-hand school clothes.” Victor shook his head. “Vargas is desperate. The Feds are closing in on his syndicate. That ledger is his only leverage.”

The door opened behind them. Elena stood framed in the doorway, pale and unsteady, wearing an oversized gray cashmere sweater provided by the staff.

“He’s right,” Elena said quietly, holding onto the doorframe for support. “I don’t have his money. But Mark did leave something behind.”

Dante moved quickly, placing a hand under her elbow to steady her. “You should be resting, Elena.”

“I’ve rested for five years, Dante,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “Mark didn’t give me money. He gave me a safe-deposit key. He told me if anything ever happened to him, I should hold it until Mia turned eighteen.”

Dante sighed heavily. “Vargas isn’t going to wait eleven years. He sent three men tonight. Next time, he’ll send an army.”

“Then take Mia,” Elena pleaded, tears shining in her eyes as she grabbed Dante’s forearms. “Take her somewhere safe. Leave me. Just protect her.”