Claire slid off the island, grabbing Emma’s hand. Sadie clung to Elena’s legs.

Elena held his stare. Her brown eyes were tired in a way sleep couldn’t fix.

“With respect,” she said carefully, “this is the first time they’ve laughed in fourteen months.”

“I don’t need you telling me what my daughters need.”

“They need safety,” she replied softly. “And they need you to stop frightening them.”

“You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

“Someone has to.”

It was gasoline meeting flame.

“You’re fired,” Adrian growled. “Pack your things.”

Sadie sobbed. The other two went pale.

Elena’s face tightened—but she crouched to Sadie’s level.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

“Don’t go,” Sadie cried.

Elena’s voice broke just slightly. “I’ll always love you.”

Love.

It sounded like goodbye.

She walked past Adrian with her chin lifted, tears unapologetic.

The triplets stopped crying.

Not because they were comforted.

Because something inside them shut down.

They joined hands and walked away from him in silence.

And Adrian felt distance colder than fear.

That night, the mansion returned to silence.

But this silence bit.

By morning, they would not speak to him.

By night, Emma whispered, flat and precise:

“I hate you.”

Adrian went to his study and cried for the first time since Isabella’s funeral.

He called Marco DeLuca.

“Find me someone to destroy,” Adrian said.

Marco’s voice stayed steady. “You already erased the Salazar crew after Isabella. Did it fix anything?”

No.

Violence hadn’t healed grief.

It had just sharpened it.

The next morning Adrian said instead, “Find her.”

Marco did.

Elena Cruz. Twenty-seven. Bronx apartment. Two jobs. Night classes.

Her father, Rafael Cruz, had been shot by a gang called the Red Vipers after refusing protection payments.

Adrian had wiped the Red Vipers out two years earlier during expansion.

She never knew.

Her brother Daniel sat in Sing Sing on fabricated charges.

Adrian listened without interrupting.

Then he said, “Take me to her.”

At a small Bronx café, Elena worked with quiet endurance. Adrian waited until her shift ended.

“I need to talk,” he said.

“You already did,” she replied coolly.

They sat in a nearby park beneath bare trees.

“My daughters went silent again,” he said.

“I know,” she answered. “Teresa called.”

He admitted he was jealous. He admitted he was wrong.

“I want you to come back.”

“No.”

He told her about Daniel.

“I’m helping him,” Adrian said. “Whether you return or not.”