**“DON'T TELL THESE PEOPLE YOU USED TO CLEAN HOTEL ROOMS! THEY'RE HERE TO CELEBRATE A MORETTI, NOT HEAR ABOUT YOUR POOR LITTLE LIFE!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 78-YEAR-OLD MOTHER AT HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—BUT WHEN THE MAID SAID, “SHE WORKED NIGHTS SO HE COULD BUILD HIS FIRST BUSINESS,” LUCA MORETTI SLOWLY PUT DOWN HIS GLASS.**

The air in the concrete vault seemed to instantly evaporate.

I stumbled backward, clutching the black lockbox tightly to my chest.

Matteo Moretti stood perfectly still in the doorway. His leather trench coat was covered in dust from the shattered chandelier at the mansion, and a nasty, bleeding cut ran across his forehead from where Luca had punched him. But his eyes were clear, cold, and completely focused on the prize in my hands.

“How did you find me?” I gasped, my back hitting the concrete wall of the vault.

Matteo let out a dry, humorless chuckle. He stepped into the vault, his suppressed pistol aimed steadily at my stomach.

“You left me locked in a coat closet, Hannah,” Matteo sneered, stepping closer. “It took me ten minutes to kick the door off its hinges. By the time I got to the hospital, Arthur’s men were already chasing an armored truck out of the alley. I didn’t follow them. I followed Elias Thorne’s GPS tracker. I planted it on his car a week ago when I got to the city.”

My heart plummeted. Matteo had been planning this coup for a long time. He hadn’t just stumbled into Arthur’s plan; he was orchestrating his own.

“You don’t want this ledger, Matteo,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “If you give it to Arthur, he’ll just use it to destroy Luca. He’ll take the empire, and he’ll leave you with nothing. He betrayed you ten years ago!”

“I’m not giving it to Arthur,” Matteo smiled, a chilling, predatory expression. “Arthur thinks I’m securing his throne. But Arthur is an old, arrogant fool. If I hold the ledger, I own the judges. I own the police captains. I don’t just get the Moretti syndicate. I get the entire city of Chicago.”

He held out his free hand, palm up.

“Hand it over, little maid. And I might let you walk out of this basement alive.”

I stared at the gun. I thought about Luca bleeding in the back of the armored truck. I thought about Teresa weeping for the son who had just returned from the grave only to betray them all again. I thought about Elena, clutching her unborn child in terror.

If I gave Matteo this ledger, Luca’s family was dead. Arthur would kill them, and Matteo would watch.

I tightened my grip on the lockbox.

“No,” I whispered.

Matteo’s smirk vanished. His eyes darkened with sudden, violent annoyance.

“I’m not playing games, girl,” Matteo growled, taking another step forward, raising the pistol to point directly at my chest. “I survived ten years in exile. I ripped my own teeth out to fake a corpse. Do you really think I’ll hesitate to put a bullet in a housekeeper? Drop the box.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t fight a trained killer. I had no weapons. I had no escape route.

I slowly lowered my arms, holding the black lockbox out toward him.

Matteo smiled triumphantly, stepping forward to grab it.

But as his fingers brushed the metal handle, a loud, metallic CLANG echoed through the sub-basement outside the vault.

Matteo instinctively snapped his head toward the noise, his gun tracking the sound.

It was the distraction I needed.

I didn’t drop the box. I swung it with every ounce of strength I possessed.

The heavy steel corner of the lockbox smashed directly into Matteo’s nose.

He screamed in agony, stumbling backward, dropping the pistol as his hands flew to his shattered, bleeding face.

I didn’t wait to see if he fell. I sprinted past him, bursting out of the vault and into the suffocating heat of the boiler room.

“You bitch!” Matteo roared blindly from inside the vault.

I ran toward the service elevator, hammering the button frantically. The doors didn’t open. It was still on an upper floor.

I couldn’t wait. I turned and ran toward the heavy metal fire door at the end of the corridor, the one marked with a glowing red EXIT sign.

I hit the push-bar with my shoulder, bursting into a dark, concrete stairwell. I took the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning, my legs screaming in protest.

Behind me, the fire door slammed open.

“I’m going to kill you!” Matteo screamed, his voice echoing terrifyingly up the stairwell. Heavy boots pounded on the concrete steps below me.

I reached the ground floor and burst through the door, finding myself in the massive, opulent kitchen of the Grand Azure Hotel. The room was dark and empty, the stainless steel countertops gleaming in the ambient light.

I scrambled through the kitchen, sliding on the slick tile floor, desperately searching for the loading dock exit that would lead me back to the alleyway where the armored truck was waiting.

I found the heavy double doors leading to the loading bay. I pushed through them, bursting out into the cold night air.

“Luca!” I screamed as loud as I could, stumbling onto the concrete loading dock.

The armored truck was exactly where I had left it, idling quietly in the shadows.

But the back doors were wide open.

And lying on the pavement, groaning in pain, was Elias Thorne.

“Elias!” I gasped, running toward him, clutching the lockbox. “What happened? Where is Luca?!”

Elias rolled over, clutching his ribs, blood trickling from his lip.

“Arthur’s men,” Elias coughed, wincing in agony. “They found us, Hannah. A black SUV pulled into the alley two minutes after you left. There were four of them. They ambushed the truck.”

My blood ran cold. The ledger suddenly felt like a block of ice in my hands.

“Where are they?” I choked out, tears instantly flooding my vision. “Did they kill him?”

“No,” Elias gasped, shaking his head. “Luca fought them. Even bleeding out, he fought like a demon to keep them away from the women. But he was too weak. They knocked him out.”

“Where did they take them?!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.

Elias looked up at me, his eyes filled with absolute despair.

“They took Luca, Teresa, and the surrogate,” Elias whispered. “They threw them in the back of the SUV. They’re taking them to the Bellini estate, Hannah. Arthur is going to execute them all in front of the Commission emissary tonight to prove his power.”

A sob tore from my throat. I had failed. I got the ledger, but I was too late.

Suddenly, the heavy metal doors of the loading dock crashed open behind me.

Matteo Moretti stumbled out onto the concrete platform. His face was a bloody, ruined mess, but his eyes burned with a murderous, unhinged rage. He had retrieved his pistol, and he aimed it directly at my back.

“End of the line, Hannah,” Matteo snarled, spitting blood onto the pavement. “Toss the box, and get on your knees.”

I slowly turned around, clutching the ledger to my chest. I looked at Matteo. I looked at Elias bleeding on the ground. I thought of Luca, tied up in the back of an SUV, heading toward his execution.

I didn’t get on my knees.

I stood up straight. I looked Matteo dead in the eye, and a terrifying, desperate calm settled over me.

“You want the ledger, Matteo?” I asked quietly.

Matteo smirked, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Smart girl. Toss it.”

“If you want it, you have to earn it,” I said.

I turned around, sprinted toward the open back doors of the armored truck, threw the lockbox onto the steel floor, and jumped in after it.

I scrambled into the driver’s seat, slamming the heavy steel partition door shut behind me, locking the cabin.

Matteo screamed in frustration. BANG. BANG. Two bullets pinged uselessly off the bulletproof glass of the windshield.

I didn’t know how to drive an armored cash-in-transit truck. I had never driven anything larger than a Honda Civic. But I didn’t care.

I threw the massive gear shift into drive, slammed my foot down on the gas pedal, and the ten-ton beast roared to life.

I steered the truck directly toward Matteo.

He dove off the loading dock in panic as the heavy steel bumper smashed into the concrete platform, shattering the brick facade.

I didn’t stop. I spun the massive steering wheel, the heavy tires screeching against the asphalt, and tore out of the alleyway, heading straight into the Chicago traffic.

I grabbed Elias’s dropped cell phone from the passenger seat. I didn’t call the police. I didn’t call the FBI.

I scrolled through the contacts until I found the number Elias had mentioned earlier. The number that commanded the only army capable of stopping Arthur Bellini.

I hit dial.

The line connected on the second ring.

“Speak,” a cold, authoritative voice answered.

“Is this the emissary for the High Commission?” I asked, my voice shaking as I barreled down the highway toward the Bellini estate.

“Who is this?” the voice demanded.

“My name is Hannah Collins,” I said, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. “I have Arthur Bellini’s shadow ledger. And I’m bringing it to you right now. But you have to promise me one thing.”