**“HE'S BEEN DRINKING AGAIN. LOOK AT HIS HANDS!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS OLDER BROTHER IN FRONT OF THIRTY DINNER GUESTS—THEN ORDERED ME TO TAKE AWAY THE GLASS HE WAS TRYING TO HIDE. BUT WHEN LUCA NOTICED WHAT WAS ACTUALLY INSIDE IT, HE PUT DOWN HIS CHAMPAGNE. “MICHAEL, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SOBER?”**

The bloody diamond necklace gleamed menacingly under the chandelier.

I stared at it, my stomach tying itself into a tight knot. Luca wasn't asking me to pour champagne or clear a plate. The head of the Moretti family was asking a housemaid to step into a mafia war.

"Dangerous?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Mr. Moretti, I just clean the house."

"Not tonight," Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Tonight, you are the only person Dominic Bellini won't see coming."

Michael stood up, wiping his eyes, a fierce, protective anger replacing his grief. "Leave her out of this, Luca! She has nothing to do with our family!"

"She's already in it," Luca fired back, pointing at me. "She saw the taxi. She noticed the camera angle in the photo. She pays attention when everyone else is blind. And right now, I need someone invisible."

Luca picked up the heavy velvet box and snapped it shut. He held it out to me.

"I tracked Claudia down to the Bellini hotel downtown," Luca explained, his voice cold and precise. "I didn't kill her. But I made it very clear what would happen if she ever came near my family again. I took the necklace as collateral. But Dominic doesn't know that yet."

He handed me the box. The velvet felt unnaturally heavy in my shaking hands.

"I need you to take this box to Dominic Bellini," Luca said.

Jenna gasped. "Are you insane? He'll kill her!"

"He won't touch her," Luca assured them, though his jaw was tight with tension. "Dominic is hosting a private poker game at his club on the south side. He’ll be surrounded by witnesses, politicians, and judges. He won't risk violence in the open. You walk in, hand the box to the floor manager, and say it’s a gift from Luca Moretti. Then you walk out."

"Why?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What does delivering a necklace do?"

"It’s a message," Marcus chimed in from the doorway, a grim smile touching his lips. "It tells Dominic that we know Claudia was the one in the study. It tells him his leverage over Michael is gone. It forces him to panic."

"And when he panics," Luca added softly, "he will make a mistake. He’ll try to move the real evidence—the warehouse deeds he forced my father to sign before the heart attack."

I looked down at the velvet box. My rent was late. My car insurance was canceled. I was a week away from being evicted.

I looked up at Luca. "If I do this... I can never go back to my apartment. They’ll know who I am."

Luca nodded slowly. "I know. If you do this, I will pay off every debt you have. I will put a quarter of a million dollars in a secure account in your name tomorrow morning. You can leave Chicago and start over anywhere you want."

A quarter of a million dollars. It was more money than I could make in a lifetime of scrubbing floors. It was freedom.

I took a deep breath, clutching the box tightly against my chest. "Okay. I'll do it."

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of Marcus’s armored SUV, driving through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago.

I had taken off my maid’s apron, but I was still wearing the simple black dress beneath it. I felt incredibly small and vulnerable.

"When you walk in, keep your head up," Marcus instructed from the driver's seat. "Don't look at the floor. Don't fidget. Act like you belong there. The Bellini guards only stop people who look afraid."

I nodded, gripping the velvet box so tightly my knuckles were white.

We pulled up to the Onyx Club, an exclusive, unmarked building with heavy brass doors and a line of expensive luxury cars parked out front.

"I'll be right here," Marcus promised. "Two minutes in and out."

I stepped out of the SUV into the freezing rain.

I walked toward the brass doors. A massive guard in a tailored suit stepped into my path, raising a hand.

"Private event," the guard rumbled. "Invitation only."

I didn't look away. I channeled every ounce of Luca Moretti’s cold arrogance I had witnessed over the last two years.

"I have a delivery for Mr. Bellini," I said smoothly, holding up the velvet box. "From Luca Moretti."

The guard’s eyes flicked to the box, recognizing the expensive velvet. He pressed a finger to his earpiece, murmured something, and then stepped aside.

I pushed the heavy doors open.

The club was thick with cigar smoke and the low hum of wealthy men gambling. Waitresses in short dresses carried silver trays of expensive liquor. In the back, elevated behind a velvet rope, was a private table.

Sitting at the center was Dominic Bellini.

He was a large, imposing man with silver hair and a sharp, cruel smile. He was laughing at a joke, stacking poker chips with thick fingers.

I walked straight toward the velvet rope. A floor manager stepped in my way.

"Can I help you?" he asked smoothly.

I held out the box. "A gift from Luca Moretti."

The manager frowned, took the box, and walked it over to Dominic.

Dominic Bellini stopped laughing. He looked at the box, then looked across the room, his cold, reptilian eyes locking directly onto me.

He didn't open the box immediately. He gestured for the floor manager to open it.

When the lid popped open, revealing the bloody diamond necklace, Dominic’s face drained of all color. The smug arrogance vanished, replaced by a sudden, terrifying panic.

He knew Claudia had been caught. He knew his leverage was gone.

He stood up so fast his heavy oak chair tipped over backward, crashing to the floor.

I didn't wait. I turned on my heel and walked briskly toward the exit, my heart hammering like a trapped bird.

I pushed through the brass doors and rushed down the wet steps. Marcus’s SUV was waiting, the engine rumbling.

I reached for the door handle.

But before my fingers could touch the metal, a heavy hand clamped down violently on my shoulder, spinning me around.

It wasn't a Bellini guard.

It was Vanessa.

Her red silk gown was ruined, soaked by the rain, her mascara running in dark streaks down her face. She looked unhinged, desperate, and completely deranged.