“Bring my granddaughter back.”

Juliette Voss’s master suite was a reflection of her exorbitant vanity, decorated in rich burgundy fabrics and heavy gold accents. When Victor and Violet pushed open the double doors, the room was pristine, completely untouched by the chaos that had unfolded downstairs.

"Where do we start?" Victor asked, pulling off his tailored suit jacket and throwing it over a velvet chaise lounge. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing more intricate, artistic tattoos traveling up his muscular forearms.

"Her vanity," Violet said immediately, walking toward the massive mirrored desk in the corner of the room. "She is incredibly protective of the bottom right drawer. She never lets the staff clean inside it."

Victor strode over to the vanity. He didn't bother looking for a key. He gripped the ornate handle of the bottom right drawer and gave it a violent, forceful yank. The cheap lock mechanism shattered instantly, the wood splintering as the drawer slid open.

Inside lay a velvet jewelry box, a stack of blank stationary, and a sleek, black burner phone.

Victor snatched the phone. He powered it on, his thumb flying across the screen. "It’s locked with a passcode."

"Try her father's birthday," Violet suggested, standing close beside him. "She is obsessed with his political legacy."

Victor punched in the six digits. The screen flashed green and unlocked. He opened the encrypted messaging app, his eyes scanning the brief, sterile exchanges.

"She is smart," Victor muttered, his deep voice thick with frustration. "No names. No addresses. Just meeting times and confirmation of funds received."

Violet leaned over, her shoulder brushing against his arm. The proximity sent a sudden jolt of electricity through them both, but the urgency of the moment kept them focused. She pointed to a specific message thread.

"Look at this one," Violet said softly. "Sent three days ago. 'The package is secured. Awaiting final transfer at the winter property.' She didn't hand the child over in the city, Victor. She took her somewhere else."

Victor stared at the screen, his mind racing. "The winter property... Juliette’s family owns a secluded ski lodge in the mountains upstate. It's heavily fortified, mostly used for illicit meetings with the northern syndicates. If the couple hasn't finalized the legal paperwork, they might be keeping the child there until the heat dies down."

"Can we reach it tonight?" Violet asked, looking up at him with fierce determination.

"It is a four-hour drive in heavy snow," Victor calculated, his sharp jaw setting into a brutal line. "And it will be guarded by her father's men."

"We have to try," Violet urged, her expressive eyes pleading with him. "Every hour that little girl is away from her grandmother, she is terrified."

Victor looked down at the beautiful, courageous woman standing beside him. He realized in that moment that he would burn the entire state to the ground to honor the bravery she had shown tonight.