GET THAT FILTHY DOG OUT OF MY HOUSE! HE'S OLD, USELESS, AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN PUT DOWN MONTHS AGO!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS YOUNG HOUSEMAID IN FRONT OF FORTY GUESTS—BUT WHEN HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER BEGGED HER FATHER NOT TO LET THE DOG GO, LUCA MORETTI ASKED ONE QUESTION THAT MADE HIS FIANCÉE TURN PALE.**

My breath caught in my throat. I recognized the frayed stitching on the shoulder, the burn mark near the left pocket. It was the coat my father had worn every day on the docks before he retired.

Why was it here? In Marco Rossi’s warehouse?

I pushed the iron grate entirely open and slipped out of the tunnel, pressing myself into the deep shadows behind the massive wooden crates.

Marco’s men were entirely focused on the front entrance, waiting for Luca’s inevitable arrival.

I crept silently toward the crane’s control panel. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I had to reach those levers to lower Lily down.

As I passed the crate holding my father’s coat, I noticed something sticking out of the heavy pocket.

It was a thick, leather-bound ledger.

Curiosity overrode my fear. I pulled it out.

The pages were filled with names, dates, and massive financial transactions. It wasn't a mafia ledger. It was a union payoff book. Evidence of Marco Rossi bribing dock officials to allow illegal shipments into Chicago.

My father hadn't retired because of an injury. He had been forced out because he found this book, and Marco Rossi had threatened his life.

I shoved the ledger into the waistband of my apron. This was the leverage that could destroy Rossi’s empire permanently.

I finally reached the control panel.

I grabbed the heavy metal lever to lower the crane.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

A cold, hard voice echoed directly behind me.

I froze.

I slowly turned around.

Standing there was a man with a scarred face, holding a suppressed pistol aimed directly at my head.

“The maid,” the man smirked. “Marco told us you were trouble. Put your hands up.”

I raised my trembling hands, backing away from the control panel.

The man reached for his radio. “Boss, I found a rat near the controls.”

Before he could press the button, a massive shadow detached itself from the rafters high above us.

A figure dropped silently onto the metal gantry just above the thug’s head.

It was Luca.

He didn't make a sound. He didn't use a gun. He dropped down behind the scarred man, wrapping a thick wire cord around his throat, cutting off his air instantly.

The man struggled silently, but Luca’s strength was overwhelming. Within seconds, the thug went limp, and Luca dragged him into the shadows.

Luca stepped out, his face covered in soot and blood, his eyes burning with a terrifying, absolute vengeance.

“You shouldn't be here, Emma,” Luca whispered, his voice rough.

“I wasn't going to let them hurt her,” I breathed, tears filling my eyes at the sight of him.

Luca looked up at Lily, dangling from the crane. His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would shatter.

“They are going to pay for this,” Luca swore.

“Luca, look,” I whispered, pulling the ledger from my apron. “I found this in my father’s old coat. It’s Marco’s bribe book. It proves he’s been running illegal shipments through the union. If the Commission sees this, they’ll execute him for breaking the peace treaty.”

Luca stared at the book, realization dawning in his eyes. “Your father didn't just find it. He hid it. He kept it as an insurance policy to protect you.”

Before we could form a plan, the massive steel doors of the warehouse shrieked open.

Marco Rossi stood up from his chair, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

“Well, well,” Marco called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. “It looks like the King of Chicago finally decided to join us.”

But it wasn't Luca standing in the doorway.