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I laughed.

“What?”

“You said Manhattan was across the river.”

“It is.”

“But we’re going into a tunnel.”

“Aye.”

Her pale blue eyes narrowed.

“Under the river?”

Lacey laughed. “I had the exact same reaction the first time I went through it.”

“People drive underneath an entire river every day?”

“Thousands of them,” Nik said.

Isabella stared through the windshield as we descended.

“This city is insane.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Scarlett promised.

The tunnel lights streaked over us while Isabella gripped my fingers so tightly I started to lose feeling in them.

When we finally emerged into Manhattan, she forgot to be nervous.

Her head turned from side to side as traffic, buildings, pedestrians, lights, storefronts, taxis, and people poured past the windows.

For twenty-five years, the world had been whatever Ciro Delgado allowed through the gates of La Cruzona or her very controlled outings with her mother.

Now she had Manhattan outside the glass, and this was only the beginning.

By the time Nik turned into the underground garage beneath our building on Eleventh, darkness had settled over the city.

The convoy followed us inside.

Lucian and I got out first.

I opened Isabella’s door and held out my hand.

She took it, and I pulled her to my side.

Scarlett climbed out from behind us while Lacey slipped between the seats and over the center console to take the seat beside Nik. The tiny woman moved as if she’d been built without bones.

“We’ll see you soon,” Lacey shouted.

“Very soon,” Scarlett shot back over her shoulder.

Nik drove off with the rest of the convoy while the four of us crossed to the private elevator.

Lucian pressed his palm to the scanner, and the doors opened.

When we reached our floor, two penthouse entrances waited on opposite sides of the private landing.