By the following Monday, Moretti Manor had undergone a transformation that would have caused Dante's grandfather to rise from the grave and demand an explanation.

Pink ribbons hung from the breakfast-room chairs.

A miniature slide occupied the east sitting room.

The marble foyer contained a small mountain of stuffed animals, all of which had been inspected and approved by Lily's chief of security, Mr. Fluffington.

Most astonishingly, a handwritten sign had appeared outside the underground shooting range.

NAP TIME. NO BOOMS.

Underneath, in Luca's neat handwriting, someone had added:

BY ORDER OF THE DON.

At one o'clock sharp, the entire mansion became silent.

Men who had negotiated arms shipments and survived gang wars tiptoed along corridors. The head chef stopped using the blender. A security officer was reprimanded for dropping his keys.

Dante, who once considered sleep a regrettable biological inconvenience, now monitored Lily's nap schedule more carefully than his financial accounts.

"The east corridor is too loud," he told Luca.

"It's empty, boss."

"The air conditioner hums."

"I'll call maintenance."

"And the curtains let in too much light."

"I'll replace them."

"And if anyone rings the doorbell during her nap—"

"We'll disconnect it."

Dante considered this. "Good."

Luca stared at him.

"What?" Dante asked.

"Nothing, boss."

"You look amused."

"I was thinking about how much the house has changed."

Dante glanced toward the nursery. "It was overdue."

In the nursery, Lily was not asleep.

She was examining the little camera hidden inside her rabbit's remaining eye. Elena had taught her a simple rule: when the light blinked twice, Mr. Fluffington had found something important. The rabbit had blinked twice during Victoria's visit, and again when Luca mentioned the ambulance.

Lily pressed its belly.

A familiar voice whispered, "Lily-Bug, if you need help, follow the blue star."

She looked at the rabbit.

"Where's the blue star?"

The toy offered no answer.

Downstairs, Dante was preparing for a video conference with Salvatore Ricci, an Italian syndicate leader who had spent the previous month threatening Moretti shipping interests.

Ricci appeared on the screen in a room full of expensive furniture and angry-looking men.

"Dante," he began, "you have interfered with my operations for the last time."

Dante adjusted his cuffs. "Your operations crossed my territory."

"You think you can dictate terms to me?"

"I'm doing it now."

Ricci slammed his palm onto the desk. "I am prepared for war!"

Dante leaned back.

"Then you're prepared to lose."

The conference-room door opened.

Lily entered carrying a plastic crown, a pink hairclip shaped like a butterfly, and a very serious expression.

Luca, standing by the wall, closed his eyes.

Dante looked at her. "Lily, I'm working."

"I know."

"This is an important meeting."

"I know."

She approached his chair.

"Up, please."

Dante glanced at the screen. Ricci was still shouting.

Lily held out her arms.

Dante lifted her onto his lap.

Ricci stopped mid-sentence.

"Who is that?"

"My daughter," Dante said.

Lily waved. "Hi, angry grandpa."

Luca turned toward the window.

Ricci's mouth fell open.

"I am not—"

"You're yelling," Lily explained. "Mommy says yelling is indoor thunder."

Dante placed one hand around her waist. "Lily, let Daddy finish."

"Your hair is messy."

"It's not."

"It needs a butterfly."

Before he could object, she reached up and clipped the pink butterfly into his carefully styled dark hair.

A tiny plastic wing stood upright above his forehead.

Luca stopped breathing.

Ricci stared at the screen.

Dante touched the hairclip, checked that it was secure, and returned his attention to the negotiation.

"Continue. You were saying you want to war with me?"

Ricci blinked.

His advisers exchanged glances.

The spectacle was almost impossible to interpret. The Ghost, whose temper was legendary, had permitted a child to decorate his hair in front of an enemy. He had not raised his voice. He had not removed the clip.

To Ricci, that calm looked more frightening than anger.

"Perhaps," Ricci said slowly, "there has been a misunderstanding."

Dante said nothing.

"We can discuss revised shipping boundaries."

"You can sign the revised agreement Luca sent yesterday."

Ricci hesitated. "All of it?"

Lily leaned toward the screen. "You should say please."

Ricci swallowed.

"Please," he said.

Dante's expression did not change. "Accepted."

Five minutes later, Ricci had agreed to withdraw from the disputed routes and pay restitution for the damaged shipments.

The screen went dark.

Luca stared at the butterfly clip.

"Boss, are you aware—"

"Yes."

"That you have a—"

"Yes, Luca."

"A pink butterfly in your hair?"

Dante looked down at Lily.

"Did you do a good job?" he asked.

She nodded. "Very handsome."

"Then it stays."

Luca walked out before he laughed himself into unemployment.

Later that afternoon, Dante took Lily into the garden. She insisted on wearing a pink cape and carrying a wooden spoon as a royal scepter. He walked beside her while two guards discreetly followed at a distance.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Was Mommy your princess?"

Dante stopped.

He looked toward the trees, where autumn leaves trembled in the wind.

"She never liked being called that."

"Why?"

"She said princesses were always waiting to be rescued."

Lily considered this.

"Mommy rescues herself."

"She does."

"But sometimes people need help."

Dante knelt beside her. "Yes. They do."

Lily pulled something from her pocket: a small blue plastic star attached to a broken key ring.

"I found this in Mr. Fluffington's pocket."

Dante took it carefully.

On the reverse was a tiny engraved number: 214.

His phone vibrated.

Luca had sent a photograph of the abandoned ambulance's dashboard. Taped beneath the steering column was an identical blue star.

Dante felt a chill.

He called Luca immediately.

"Find out what 214 means."

"Already checking, boss."

Lily tugged his sleeve.

"Daddy, Mommy said the blue star finds the sleeping place."

Dante stared at her.

"What sleeping place?"

"Where she went after the hospital."

Before he could ask more, Luca spoke again.

"Boss, we have a match. Room 214 belongs to a private recovery facility in Westchester."

Dante rose.

"Prepare the cars."

Then Luca added, "There's a complication. The facility is registered to the Vance Foundation."