**“DON'T LET HER GIVE A TOAST! THIS IS MY ENGAGEMENT DINNER, NOT A RETIREMENT PARTY!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE MOCKED HIS 78-YEAR-OLD MOTHER FOR STRUGGLING TO SPEAK IN FRONT OF THIRTY-SIX GUESTS—BUT WHEN THE MAID QUIETLY SAID, “SHE'S BEEN PRACTICING FOR YOU,” LUCA MORETTI PUT DOWN HIS GLASS.**

The black smoke billowed into the pale morning sky, a grim, twisting tower that marked the end of Vanessa Bellini.

I stood frozen in the doorway of the boathouse, the distant crackle of burning metal echoing through the silent woods. My stomach churned violently.

"Vanessa..." I breathed, horror gripping my throat. "Marco, she's dead."

Marco didn't look surprised. He didn't look horrified. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying calculation. He quickly checked the magazine of his pistol and slammed it back into the grip.

"She was dead the moment she threatened the Moretti family," Marco said flatly.

"But you let her go!" I argued, panic rising in my chest. "You told her to run!"

"I told her to run so she wouldn't bleed on the estate," Marco corrected, looking at me with those dark, familiar eyes. "Did you really think Luca didn't know she was here?"

My jaw dropped. "Luca knew?"

"Hannah, you used a staff vehicle to drive to the edge of the property," Marco said, moving past me toward the woods. "Every car in the Moretti garage has a GPS tracker. Luca was notified the moment you crossed the perimeter. He sent me to get you out safely."

"And the car bomb?" I asked, my voice trembling as I followed him into the trees.

"Silvio Bellini is a coward," Marco said, pushing through the thick brush. "Vanessa called her father this morning, begging for help. Silvio knew that if Vanessa exposed his ten-year-old assassination of Luca's father, Luca would slaughter him. Silvio didn't plant that bomb to protect his daughter. He planted it to silence her."

I felt physically sick. A father blowing up his own daughter to save his own skin. It was a level of depravity I couldn't comprehend.

"We need to get back to the house," Marco ordered, his pace quickening. "The explosion will draw the police. Luca needs to have the story straight before they arrive."

We jogged through the woods, the smell of burning rubber and gasoline growing stronger in the air. We bypassed the flaming wreckage of Vanessa's sedan on the dirt access road, sticking to the shadows of the tree line until we reached the back lawns of the mansion.

The estate was in controlled chaos. Guards were moving quickly, securing the perimeter gates.

Luca was standing on the back terrace, wearing a dark sweater and slacks, looking out toward the plume of smoke. He looked perfectly calm.

We walked up the stone steps.

"Hannah," Luca said softly, his eyes scanning my face for injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"No, sir," I said, catching my breath. "Marco got there in time."

Luca nodded, turning to his right-hand man. "Is it done?"

"Silvio Bellini's work," Marco confirmed, his voice devoid of any emotion. "She didn't suffer. It was instantaneous."

Luca didn't flinch. "Good. Marco, handle the local police commander when he arrives. Tell him it was a targeted hit by a rival faction against the Bellini family. We had nothing to do with it."

"Understood, Boss."

Marco turned to walk back into the house. But as he passed Luca, I saw Marco's hand brush against the inside pocket of his jacket. The pocket holding the manila envelope. The adoption papers.

Marco didn't say a word. He just walked inside, a ghost carrying the weight of two empires.

"Hannah," Luca said, breaking my focus.

I looked back at him.

"Why did you go to the boathouse?" Luca asked. His voice wasn't angry, but it was demanding. "Vanessa called you. She lured you out there. Why?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't tell him about the adoption papers. If Luca knew Marco was Julian Rossi, the delicate balance of power in this house would shatter completely.

"She... she told me she had something of your mother's," I lied, my voice shaking just enough to sound convincingly terrified. "She said she had the silver bracelet. The one stolen the night your father died. She threatened to pawn it if I didn't meet her."

Luca's eyes darkened instantly at the mention of his father.

"She had the bracelet?" Luca asked quietly.

"Yes," I nodded. "But Marco intervened before she could give it to me. She ran to her car, and... you know the rest."

Luca stared at me for a long moment. He was a man who made a living reading lies, and I prayed my fear of the explosion was enough to mask the deception.

Finally, Luca nodded. "You took a foolish risk, Hannah. But your loyalty to my mother is absolute. Go inside. Get changed. The police will want a statement from the Head of Household about the disruption."

"Yes, Mr. Moretti."

I hurried inside, my legs feeling like lead. I had survived the morning, but the secret was still burning a hole in my mind.

I walked up the grand staircase toward my quarters to change, but as I passed Teresa's suite, the door was slightly ajar.

I heard a soft, rhythmic clicking sound.

I peeked inside.

Teresa was sitting at her vanity mirror. She wasn't crying. She wasn't shaking.

She was holding a small, silver rosary, sliding the beads through her fingers with practiced, hypnotic precision.

And sitting on the vanity table, right next to her jewelry box, was the heavy, ornate silver bracelet with twisting vines.

The bracelet Vanessa had been wearing an hour ago.

I gasped out loud, slapping a hand over my mouth.

Teresa stopped praying. She looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Come in, Hannah," Teresa said softly.

I stepped into the room, my entire body trembling. I looked at the bracelet on the table.

"How... how is that here?" I stammered. "Vanessa had that on her wrist at the boathouse. I saw it."

Teresa picked up the silver bracelet. She rubbed her thumb over the tarnished metal.

"Vanessa was a foolish girl," Teresa murmured, her voice steady and cold. "She came to my room late last night, after Luca threw her out of the dining room. She demanded I give her money to stay quiet about the chest."

I couldn't speak.

"I told her I didn't have cash," Teresa continued, looking at me through the mirror. "I gave her this bracelet instead. I told her it was priceless. I told her it was an heirloom."

"But... Marco said Silvio Bellini stole it when he killed your husband."

Teresa smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was the smile of a woman who had survived thirty-five years in the mafia by being smarter than the men around her.

"My husband didn't die of a heart attack, Hannah," Teresa whispered. "And Silvio Bellini didn't kill him."

She turned around in her chair to face me.

"I killed my husband," Teresa stated.

The room started to spin.

"He found out about Marco," Teresa said, her voice devoid of any remorse. "Ten years ago, my husband found the chest. He realized I had given Julian Rossi to one of his own soldiers to raise. He was going to kill Marco the next morning to wipe the Rossi bloodline out forever."

She gripped the silver rosary tightly.

"I crushed his blood pressure pills," Teresa said. "I mixed them into his evening tea. He died in his sleep. I took the bracelet off my own wrist and hid it, claiming it was stolen in the chaos, to make it look like an outside hit. I protected my son."

I backed away toward the door, horrified.

Teresa stood up. She picked up the silver bracelet.

"And last night," Teresa said, walking toward me, "I gave the bracelet to Vanessa. And then I made a phone call to her father, Silvio. I told him his daughter had stolen proof of his treason against the Rossi family, and that she was planning to use it."