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.

We escaped through the underground servant tunnels beneath the estate. Luca led me to a heavily armored black SUV hidden in a secondary garage.

The rain was coming down in sheets as we tore out onto the highway, heading toward the mountain foothills.

I sat in the passenger seat, clutching the wooden box, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

“Why didn't she tell me?” I whispered, staring out at the dark, blurring trees. “My mother. She raised me in a tiny apartment, working double shifts. She never told me she knew billionaires. She never told me she had a mafia ledger.”

Luca kept his eyes on the treacherous, winding road. “Because she was protecting you, Rachel. If the Rossis knew where she was, they would have killed you both. She lived in poverty to keep you off their radar. She was a brave woman.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You said she was your father’s confidante.”

“She was more than that,” Luca said softly. The dashboard lights cast sharp shadows across his tattooed hands gripping the steering wheel. “When I was eight years old, the Rossis ambushed our car. My father was killed. I was in the backseat.”

I turned to look at him, stunned by the raw vulnerability in his voice.

“Your mother was with us,” Luca continued. “She threw herself over me. She took a bullet in the shoulder to shield my head. In the chaos, she dragged me out of the car and hid me in a storm drain until my father’s men arrived. She vanished the next day.”

Tears blurred my vision. “She saved your life.”

“I owe my life to Elena Morgan,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion. He glanced at me. “And I will not let her daughter suffer. We are getting Lily back.”

The armored SUV climbed higher into the mountains. The paved road turned into a muddy, washed-out dirt path.

Finally, the headlights illuminated a dilapidated, overgrown log cabin surrounded by towering pines.

We got out of the truck. The cold mountain air bit into my lungs.

Luca drew his weapon and kicked the rotting front door open.

The cabin was empty, smelling of damp wood and decayed leaves. There was no furniture, just a rusted iron stove in the corner.

“Where would she hide it?” Luca asked, scanning the small room with a flashlight.

I walked to the center of the room. I closed my eyes, trying to remember the few times my mother had spoken of this place when she was delirious with fever in the hospital.

“The hearth, Rachel. Keep the fire warm.”

“The fireplace,” I said, opening my eyes.

I ran to the crumbling stone fireplace. Luca helped me move the heavy iron grate. Beneath a thick layer of hardened ash and dirt, there was a loose stone.

I wedged my fingers into the crack and pulled. The stone slid free.

Inside the hollow cavity was a thick, oilcloth-wrapped bundle.

I pulled it out and unwrapped it. It was a heavy, leather-bound ledger. The pages were yellowed, filled with neat, meticulous handwriting. Dates, names, bank account numbers, and payoffs.

It was the holy grail of blackmail. Enough to send the entire Rossi family to federal prison for life.

But as I pulled the ledger out, a small, white envelope fell from the binding into the ash.

It had my name written on it.

I tore it open. It was a letter from my mother.

“My dearest Rachel. If you are reading this, the past has finally caught up. Give the ledger to the Morettis. But keep the photograph in the watch for yourself. It is the key to the Rossi vault. Do not trust the police. Trust only Luca.”

I stared at the paper.

Suddenly, the roar of a helicopter engine shattered the silence of the mountain.