My three-year-old daughter broke into my Mafia boss’s forbidden ballroom and taught his little boy a dance she had secretly copied from a recording. I thought Nathaniel Reed would throw us out when he caught them, until he saw the woman dancing on the screen, went deathly pale, and whispered, “That’s my wife. Who taught your daughter her dance?” My name is Clara Delgado, and until that afternoon, I had never seen Nathaniel Reed afraid. Everyone in the city knew his name. People called him ruthless. Dangerous. The kind of man who never needed to raise his voice because everyone already understood the consequences. I worked inside his guarded estate, and there was one rule nobody questioned. Never enter the ballroom.

The cathedral fell dead silent, save for the rhythmic drumming of rain outside.

Marcus walked slowly down the center aisle, his boots clicking sharply against the ancient stone floor. His men fanned out, blocking the side exits. We were completely trapped in the House of God.

I shoved Sophia and Eli behind the heavy wooden pulpit, crouching down with them. My heart beat so hard it hurt my ribs.

Nathaniel stood his ground in the center of the aisle, the velvet box in his left hand, his right hand resting casually near the pistol holstered at his hip.

“You shouldn't have come here, Marcus,” Nathaniel said, his voice terrifyingly calm.

Marcus sneered, stopping twenty feet away. “You left me no choice, Nate. Mother called. She said you found the ledger. And now you’ve found my watch.”

“You killed my wife,” Nathaniel stated. It wasn't a question. It was a verdict.

“I did,” Marcus admitted without a hint of remorse. “And I killed that nosy driver of yours, too. Evelyn was going to destroy everything our father built. She was weak. And she was making you weak.”

Hearing the man confess to murdering my husband sent a white-hot spike of rage through my veins. David hadn't died of a heart defect. He had died fighting a monster to protect a woman. He died a hero.

“You think this is strength?” Nathaniel asked, gesturing to the armed men desecrating a church. “Working as a lapdog for our mother?”

Marcus’s face flushed with anger. “I am the older brother! I should have been the boss! But Father chose you. Because you were ruthless. But Evelyn made you soft, Nate. So I fixed the problem.”

Marcus racked the shotgun. The loud clack-clack echoed violently.

“Give me the watch and the ledger,” Marcus demanded. “And I’ll make it quick. I’ll even let the nanny and the kids walk out of here.”

“You’re a liar,” I shouted from behind the pulpit, unable to stay silent. “You wouldn't leave a witness alive!”

Marcus laughed, a dry, ugly sound. “She’s smart, brother. Smarter than Evelyn.”

Nathaniel didn't look at me. He kept his eyes locked on his brother.

“You want the watch, Marcus?” Nathaniel asked softly.

“Toss it,” Marcus ordered.

Nathaniel raised his left arm. He threw the velvet box high into the air, toward the massive stained-glass window above the altar.

Marcus’s eyes instinctively tracked the box as it flew.

It was a fatal, split-second distraction.

Nathaniel didn't draw his gun. He kicked a heavy, solid oak communion table directly into Marcus’s legs.

The heavy wood slammed into Marcus’s shins with a sickening crack. Marcus shouted in pain, the shotgun firing wildly into the ceiling, showering us in plaster dust.

Chaos erupted.

“Get down!” Father Thomas yelled, throwing himself over the children.

Nathaniel drew his weapon in a blur of motion, firing twice. Two of Marcus’s men dropped instantly.

The remaining guards opened fire, but Nathaniel was already moving, diving behind the thick marble baptismal font. Bullets chipped away at the ancient stone, filling the air with dust and the smell of cordite.

I grabbed Sophia and Eli, pulling them deeper into the shadows behind the altar, praying the thick wood would hold.

“Hold your fire!” Marcus roared from the floor, clutching his broken leg. “Don't hit the kid! Mother wants Eli alive!”

The gunfire abruptly stopped.

The silence that followed was heavy and terrifying.

“You hear that, Nate?” Marcus yelled, his voice strained with pain. “Mother wants her grandson. She’s going to raise him right. Make him a true Reed. Not a soft coward like you.”

Behind the marble font, Nathaniel didn't answer.

“Flush him out!” Marcus ordered his men.

Four guards began to flank Nathaniel’s position, moving methodically down the side aisles. Nathaniel was pinned down. He only had a handgun against automatic weapons.

I looked around frantically. There had to be something I could do. I wasn't just a maid anymore. I was David’s wife, and I was going to fight.

My eyes landed on the massive electrical breaker panel on the wall behind the altar. The church was old; the panel was rusted and exposed.

I looked at Father Thomas. He saw where I was looking and nodded once.

I crawled on my stomach, ignoring the scrapes on my knees, until I reached the panel. I reached up, grabbed the main heavy iron lever, and pulled it down with all my strength.

The cathedral plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.

The men shouted in confusion.

In the sudden blackout, I heard Nathaniel move. He was a predator in his element. The darkness was his ally.

I heard three rapid suppressed gunshots.

Three heavy thuds hit the stone floor.

“Turn the lights on!” Marcus screamed, panic finally breaking his arrogant facade.

Suddenly, a flashlight beam cut through the darkness. One of the surviving guards had pulled a tactical light. The beam swept across the sanctuary, illuminating the dust-filled air.

The light swept over the pulpit. It swept over the altar.

And then, the beam locked onto something that made my blood freeze.

The beam hit little Eli.

In the confusion of the blackout, the terrified two-year-old had crawled out from behind the altar, crying out for his father.

He was sitting in the middle of the center aisle, completely exposed.

“I got the kid!” the guard yelled, aiming his rifle directly at Eli.

“No!” I screamed, jumping up from the shadows.

But I was too far away.

Suddenly, Nathaniel stepped out from the darkness, completely exposing himself to the flashlight beam.

He stood directly between the guard’s rifle and his son.

Nathaniel dropped his weapon. It clattered loudly on the stone floor.

He raised his empty hands.