I looked at my three children on the cot.

Oliver was already asleep, his head resting on Noah’s shoulder.

Lena was watching us, her thumb tucked firmly into her mouth.

“They want the triplets,” I said, my voice barely audible in the quiet room.

“They want them as the ultimate leverage,” Isabella said. “If Salvatore holds the children, Adrian has to submit to his terms. If Camille holds them, she controls Salvatore’s legacy.”

“I won’t let them touch them,” Adrian said, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Then you must listen to me very carefully,” Isabella said.

She walked to a small gray safe in the corner of the room.

She spun the dial and pulled the heavy door open.

Inside were several thick stacks of cash, three fake passports, and three small, silver tracking devices.

“We need to move you tonight,” she said.

“Where?” Adrian asked.

“To the old brewery district,” Isabella said. “I have a safe house there that Salvatore does not know about.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked, looking at the concrete walls.