Chapter 2The Marchetti family estate sat behind tall wrought iron gates on the western edge of Bellport City. White marble columns flanked the entrance. A stone fountain carved with angels stood in the center of the circular driveway. The hedges were trimmed to perfection, and the lawn looked like it had been cut with a ruler.It was the kind of house that whispered old money from every brick.Nick stepped out of the taxi and walked through the front door without knocking. He already knew what was waiting for him inside, because he had lived through this exact scene before. And the last time, it had ended with him losing everything.The main living room was arranged like a courtroom. Attorney Robert Falcone sat at the long mahogany dining table with two notaries flanking him, a neat stack of documents laid out in front. To the left, Elena Marchetti sat on the leather couch in a crimson designer dress, her legs crossed and her expression dripping with rehearsed grief. Beside her, Vinc

Chapter 4Nick set up a makeshift nest in the kitchen using a shoebox lined with cotton towels. He filled a bottle cap with water and placed it beside the box, then went out to the garden with a flashlight.It took twenty minutes of digging through soft soil near the hedges before he had a handful of grubs, beetles, and small worms. He carried them back inside and sat down at the kitchen counter."Alright, little guy," he murmured, holding up a small grub between his fingers. "Open up."The chick tilted its head weakly, then opened its beak. Nick placed the grub inside, and the bird swallowed it whole with a tiny, satisfied chirp. He fed it three more grubs and a small beetle, each one placed gently on the bird's tongue with the patience of a man who had nowhere else to be.After the fifth bite, the chick stopped opening its mouth. It blinked twice, tucked its head under its stubby wing, and fell asleep.Nick watched it for a long moment, a soft expression crossing his face that would

Chapter 6Nick spent the entire next morning at the estate's dining table with his laptop open and his credit card practically on fire. Another hundred million dollars vanished into online orders. Canned goods by the pallet. Self heating meals by the thousand. Water purification tablets. Industrial first aid kits. Camping tents rated for arctic conditions. Military grade walkie talkies with a fifty mile range. Portable diesel generators. Cases of whiskey and vodka that would be worth more than gold bars when the liquor stores stopped existing. Cartons of cigarette alternatives that desperate survivors would trade their last can of food for.By two in the afternoon, he finally closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.His phone buzzed. A message from Isabella."Supply list is DONE. Took me all night but I think I covered literally everything. From toilet paper to tactical body armor. Want me to send it over?"Nick typed back with a tired grin. "Send it. And let

Chapter 8Maria Esposito leaned against the counter with her arms folded, studying Nick with those sharp dark eyes like she was reading a recipe and deciding whether to trust it."So let me get this straight," she said. "You walked in here for the first time tonight, ate one meal, and now you want to know my entire cooking philosophy?"Nick shrugged. "When someone is that good at something, I get curious. That crab pot wasn't just food. It was art."Maria tilted her head slightly, and a small, pleased smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She reached under the counter and pulled out a sleek black card with gold lettering."Here." She slid it across the counter toward him. "Twenty percent off. Every visit. No expiration."Nick picked it up. "You give these to everyone who compliments your cooking?""I give them to people who actually notice the difference between good food and great food." Maria's eyes held his for a moment. "Most people just eat. You actually tasted it. That's rare