MY EX-HUSBAND SNATCHED MY CAR KEYS AT THE MAFIA BOSS’S DINNER AND TOLD EVERYONE I WAS “NOT WELL”—BUT WHEN LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP, HE ASKED ONE QUESTION THAT MADE MY EX TURN PALE.

The steak knife clattered to the marble floor.

Grant collapsed onto the dining table, clutching his shoulder. Blood seeped through his pristine gray suit.

Luca stood over him, the barrel of his gun smoking slightly in the red emergency light. He hadn't killed him, but he had shattered his collarbone.

“Daniel! Drag him to the vault and lock the door!” Luca ordered over the blaring sirens. “Rachel, stay behind me!”

I was frozen in shock, but survival instinct kicked in. I grabbed the wooden memory box, clutching it to my chest, and ran behind Luca as he moved into the hallway.

The mansion was a war zone. Men in dark tactical gear were moving through the corridors, exchanging gunfire with Luca’s security team.

“They aren't here for a hit,” Luca yelled over the noise, pushing me down behind a heavy marble pillar. “They’re moving too slowly. They’re searching for something.”

“The watch!” I realized, looking down at the wooden box in my arms. “Grant brought it here for them. The photograph!”

Luca looked at the box, then at me. “My father’s murder photo. The Rossis want it back. But why now? After twenty years?”

Before he could answer his own question, my cell phone buzzed violently in my apron pocket.

I pulled it out. The caller ID was restricted.

I answered it with shaking hands. “Hello?”

“Rachel Morgan,” a smooth, gravelly voice echoed through the speaker. “I hear you have your mother’s keepsakes.”

“Where is Lily?” I screamed into the phone. “If you hurt her—”

“The child is perfectly fine,” the voice interrupted calmly. “She’s enjoying a cartoon in a very secure location. But her safety depends entirely on your cooperation. Put Luca Moretti on the phone.”

I shoved the phone toward Luca.

Luca put it on speaker. “This is Moretti. Call off your dogs, Rossi, before I send them back to you in boxes.”

A dry chuckle came through the line. “You’re as arrogant as your father, Luca. But you don't hold the cards tonight. The girl’s ex-husband was a useful idiot, but his time is up. I want the ledger.”

Luca frowned. “What ledger?”

“Don't play dumb. Elena stole the Rossi family ledger thirty years ago when she fled our estate to work for yours. It has the names of every corrupt politician on our payroll. Grant was supposed to find it in the girl’s apartment, but he only found the watch.”

I stared at Luca. My mother hadn't just worked for the Morettis. She had stolen from the mafia.

“I don't have a ledger,” I said to the phone, my voice cracking. “I don't know what you’re talking about!”

“Then you better find it, Rachel,” Rossi said coldly. “You have until midnight. Bring the ledger to the old shipyard on Pier 4. Come alone with Luca. If you bring the police, or if you miss the deadline, the little girl goes swimming.”

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone. It shattered on the marble floor.

Midnight. It was already 9:30 PM.

“Rachel,” Luca said gently, gripping my shoulders to stop my trembling. “Look at me. We are going to find her. But you need to think. Did your mother ever leave you anything else? A book? A diary? A lockbox?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, digging through painful memories of my mother’s final days in hospice.

“She didn't leave anything,” I sobbed. “Just the watch. And… and the old cabin.”

Luca’s eyes sharpened. “What cabin?”

“A ruined hunting cabin up in the mountains. We never went there. She just paid the property taxes on it every year until she died. Grant always wanted to sell it, but I refused.”

Luca stood up, reloading his weapon.

“Daniel!” Luca shouted down the hall. “Hold the line here! Do not let them breach the safe room!”