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That was enough.

I didn’t ask for details.

I never did.

When your family lives in a world like ours, you learn very early that some truths are better left between a man and God.

I crossed the room slowly and placed my hand gently on his shoulder.

“You did what had to be done.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I know you know that Marcel gave me a list,” he said after a moment.

“Yes.”

“I started it tonight. With Sir.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

Lord, have mercy on us.

He turned toward me.

“You know the kind of people on that list?”

I nodded. “I do.”

His voice dropped lower. “Predators.”

My son had always hated them.

Even as a boy.

He had a fury for men who hurt children that burned hotter than anything else in him.

Which was exactly why Marcel had given him that responsibility. To me, it was cruel to give my baby that kind of responsibility, but only he could execute it.

“Then you did God’s work tonight,” I said lowly.

Ares let out a slow breath. “Maybe.”

I walked toward the small cabinet near the prayer table and opened the drawer.

Inside sat a small bottle of oil.

Blessed anointing oil from the cathedral.

Next to it was a gold cross on a thin chain.

I turned back to him.

“Sit.”

He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, lowering himself into the chair near the prayer table like he had done a thousand times when he was younger.

He was a powerful man now.