**“SHE CAN BARELY SET A DINNER TABLE. YOU REALLY THINK SHE KNOWS SIGN LANGUAGE?” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD HOUSEMAID IN FRONT OF FORTY DINNER GUESTS—BUT WHEN THE MAID ANSWERED A DEAF MAN WITH HER HANDS, LUCA MORETTI DISCOVERED WHY HIS DAUGHTER'S GRANDFATHER HAD STOPPED COMING TO SEE HER.**

The cold, concrete walls of the underground garage seemed to spin around me.

My brother. Ben. He was only twenty-one. He lived in the small apartment we shared downtown, an hour away from the chaos of the Moretti estate. He had nothing to do with this world. He didn't even know who Luca Moretti was.

"Vanessa," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. "Please. He has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with it," Vanessa sneered through the phone. "You took my future, Rachel. You translated for that old man and ruined my engagement. So now, I'm taking your brother. Thirty minutes. Bring the girl to your apartment, or Ben dies."

"I can't!" I sobbed, looking at Sophie through the tinted window of the SUV. She was safe, held tight in her grandfather's arms. I couldn't trade a ten-year-old child to save my brother. But I couldn't let my brother die, either.

"Tick tock, Rachel," Vanessa mocked, and the line went dead.

I lowered the phone, my hands shaking so violently I nearly dropped it.

"Rachel?"

I jumped. Marco was standing next to the SUV, looking at me with narrowed eyes. He had seen the terror wash over my face.

"Who was on the phone?" Marco demanded, his hand dropping casually toward his holstered weapon.

I swallowed hard. If I told Marco, he would lock down the estate. He wouldn't let me leave, and Vanessa would kill Ben. I had to handle this myself.

"It was... it was nothing," I lied, forcing my voice to steady. "Just a spam call. We need to go."

Marco stared at me for a long second, his eyes piercing right through my lie. He was an interrogator for the mob; he knew when someone was hiding something. But the distant crackle of gunfire outside grew louder, demanding his attention.

"Get in," Marco ordered, moving to the driver's side.

I opened the passenger door and climbed in. The armored SUV roared to life. Marco punched a code into the console, and the heavy steel security gate of the garage slowly ground open.

We tore out of the garage, bypassing the main gates where the war was raging, and merged onto the dark, rain-slicked highway heading north toward Wisconsin.

I sat in the passenger seat, my mind racing in absolute panic.

I had twenty-five minutes left.

I couldn't bring Sophie. That was non-negotiable. But if I showed up without her, Vanessa would shoot Ben the moment I walked through the door.

I needed a weapon. I needed an advantage.

I reached into the pocket of my apron. My fingers brushed against the heavy, silenced pistol I had taken from Thomas in the safe room. I had kept it when we fled the cellar.

It wasn't enough. Vanessa would have a gun, and she would be expecting me to fight. I needed something she wasn't expecting.

I looked down at my hands.

When Luca had thrown Vanessa into the study earlier, she had fought with the guards. In the struggle, her heavy, diamond-encrusted engagement ring had fallen off her finger and rolled onto the carpet. I had picked it up without thinking and put it in my pocket, intending to give it back to Luca later.

I pulled the ring out. It was a massive, three-carat diamond set in platinum.

An idea formed in my mind. A desperate, insane idea.

"Marco," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"What?" Marco grunted, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I need you to pull over."

Marco frowned, glancing at me. "Are you out of your mind? We have a hit squad looking for us. We're not stopping until we cross the state line."

"Marco, please," I begged, tears welling in my eyes. "Vanessa has my brother. She's holding him hostage at my apartment downtown. She said if I don't bring Sophie in twenty minutes, she'll kill him."

Marco slammed on the brakes. The heavy SUV skidded to a halt on the shoulder of the empty highway.

He turned to me, his face a mask of absolute fury. "And you didn't think to mention this before we left the estate?!"

"If I told you, you wouldn't have let me go!" I cried. "I can't let my brother die, Marco! I have to go to him!"

"You can't trade the boss's daughter for your brother, Rachel!" Marco yelled.

"I'm not going to!" I yelled back. "I'm going alone! I'm going to kill her!"

Marco stared at me, stunned by the sheer ferocity in my voice. The quiet, polite housemaid was gone. In her place was a sister fighting for her family's survival.

He looked at the tears streaming down my face, then at the silenced pistol peeking out of my apron pocket.

"You think you can take down a desperate woman with a gun you've fired once?" Marco asked, his voice softening slightly.

"I have to try," I whispered.

Marco sat in silence for three long seconds. He looked at the dashboard clock.

"Get in the back," Marco ordered.

I blinked. "What?"

"Get in the back with Frank and the kid," Marco said, shifting the SUV into drive. "We're going downtown."

"Marco, you can't risk Sophie—"

"I'm not risking her," Marco interrupted, pulling a heavy, tactical radio from the center console. "Frank is armed, and this truck is bulletproof. I'm going to park two blocks away from your apartment. And then, I'm going to walk in there with you."

A wave of profound relief washed over me. I wasn't alone.

I scrambled into the back seat, sitting next to Sophie, who was watching us with wide, frightened eyes. I smiled at her, trying to look brave.

Marco hit the gas, whipping the heavy SUV in a brutal U-turn across the highway median, tearing back toward the glowing skyline of downtown Chicago.

Fifteen minutes later, Marco killed the headlights and parked the SUV in a dark alley two blocks from my apartment building.

"Frank," Marco signed, his movements sharp and precise. He had learned a little ASL from Luca over the years. Lock the doors. Do not open them for anyone but me or Rachel.

Frank nodded grimly, checking the cylinder of his silver revolver.

Marco turned to me. He pulled a sleek, combat knife from his boot and handed it to me. "Keep the gun hidden. Use this if she gets close."

"Okay," I said, slipping the knife into my waistband.

We got out of the car and sprinted down the rain-soaked alleyways, avoiding the main streetlights. My apartment was on the third floor of a run-down brick building.

When we reached the fire escape, Marco stopped.

"I'm going up the fire escape to the window," Marco whispered, drawing his weapon. "You go through the front door. Distract her. Give me ten seconds to get into position."

I nodded, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

I walked up the creaking wooden stairs to the third floor. I stood in front of my own door. It was slightly ajar. The lock had been picked.

I took a deep breath, clutching the silenced pistol in my pocket.

I pushed the door open.

My small, cramped living room was a mess. Lamps were overturned, books scattered on the floor.

Sitting in the center of the room, tied tightly to a wooden dining chair, was Ben. His face was bruised, and a strip of silver duct tape covered his mouth. His eyes widened in absolute terror when he saw me.

Standing behind him, holding a silver handgun pressed against the back of his head, was Vanessa.

She looked manic, her hair wild, her red dress stained with dirt and rain.

When she saw me walk in alone, her eyes flared with pure hatred.

"Where is the girl?" Vanessa screamed, clicking the hammer back on her gun. "Where is Sophie?!"

"I didn't bring her, Vanessa," I said, my voice shaking as I stepped into the room. "She's gone. Luca sent her out of the state."

Vanessa's face twisted into an ugly, desperate snarl. "You lying bitch! I told you I'd kill him!"

"Wait!" I yelled, pulling my hand out of my pocket.

I held up the massive, three-carat diamond engagement ring. It sparkled brightly in the dim light of the living room.

Vanessa froze. Her eyes locked onto the ring.

"I brought this instead," I lied, my voice trembling. "It's worth half a million dollars. You can pawn it. You can use it to run. If you shoot him, every cop in Chicago will be looking for you. Take the ring and leave."

Vanessa stared at the diamond. Greed warred with her desire for revenge. She needed money to escape the Bratva and Luca.

She slowly lowered the gun from Ben's head, stepping out from behind his chair, her eyes fixed on the ring in my hand.

"Toss it," she demanded.

"Let him go first," I countered.

"Toss it, or I shoot him right now!" she screamed.

I pretended to hesitate, then tossed the ring onto the floor halfway between us.

Vanessa took the bait. She lunged forward, dropping to her knees to grab the diamond.

It was the distraction I needed.

I didn't pull the gun. I looked at the window behind her.

CRASH.

The glass shattered inward as Marco swung through the fire escape window, leading with his heavy boots.

He slammed directly into Vanessa, driving her face-first into the hardwood floor. Her gun clattered across the room.

Before she could even scream, Marco had his knee on the back of her neck and the barrel of his gun pressed against her skull.

"Don't move," Marco growled.

I ran to Ben, pulling the combat knife from my waistband and slicing the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. I ripped the tape off his mouth.

"Rachel!" Ben cried, his voice thick with fear and a heavy deaf accent. He threw his arms around me, sobbing.

"I've got you, Benny," I wept, hugging him tight. "You're safe. You're safe."

I looked over at Marco. He had Vanessa zip-tied and pinned to the floor. The glamorous, cruel woman who had terrorized the Moretti mansion was finally, completely broken.

Marco looked at me, a rare, genuine smile crossing his scarred face.

"Good job, housemaid," Marco said softly.

I smiled through my tears, holding my brother tight.

The nightmare was finally over.

Or so I thought.

As Marco hauled Vanessa to her feet, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket again.

I pulled it out.

It was a text message from an unknown number.