Eden’s POVThe luxury of the Schmidt mansion was a fortress, but a fortress is only as good as the territory it controls.By mid-afternoon, the rain had finally stopped, leaving New York wrapped in a thick, humid fog. I was sitting in Daddy’s private study, a room lined with heavy oak bookshelves, dark green leather sofas, and the faint scent of expensive cigars. I had an espresso sitting next to my open laptop, my fingers sweeping across the digital transfers of the newly acquired Moretti accounts, while Mia stood by the window, diligently cross-referencing shipping manifests on a tablet.The heavy mahogany door clicked open, and Daniel stepped inside. His face was entirely devoid of its usual calm, calculated precision. It was a cold mask of tactical alert."We have a situation," Daniel said, his voice dropping into that low, serious register that usually preceded a body count. "Sandro Moretti just crawled out of his hole. The rat is desperate."I didn't blink. I didn't tense. I sim
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