"SHE WANTED ME TO CALL YOU BEFORE THE WEDDING AND TELL YOU I NEVER WANTED TO BE YOUR DAUGHTER AGAIN."

The hand signal changed everything.

Luca wasn't walking into a slaughter. He was springing a trap.

But he didn't know about the poisoned champagne resting on the silver tray in my hands.

The priest began the ceremony. The traditional Catholic mass droned on in Latin, the solemn words echoing through the vaulted ceiling of the private chapel.

I stood in the shadows of the kitchen doorway, the two Romano guards flanking me.

My mind raced.

If I served the champagne, Luca would die.

If I didn't serve the champagne, Vanessa’s men would detonate the thermite charges in the basement, killing everyone.

I had to stop the toast without triggering the explosives. I had to create a distraction so massive, so chaotic, that Vanessa wouldn't have time to reach for the detonator she surely had hidden on her.

The priest raised his hands.

"Do you, Luca Moretti, take this woman..."

I looked down at the silver tray.

The guard to my right nudged me hard in the ribs. "Get ready, maid," he sneered quietly. "The toast is right after the rings."

Pain flared violently in my side from his shove.

And in that split second of agony, I realized how I could stop it.

"I pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declared. "You may kiss the bride."

Luca leaned in, his face an emotionless mask, and kissed Vanessa’s cheek. It was a cold, sterile gesture, but the syndicate bosses in the pews applauded politely.

Vanessa turned to the crowd, her smile radiant and triumphant.

She nodded slightly toward the kitchen doors.

"Go," the guard hissed, shoving me forward.

I stepped out of the shadows, the silver tray perfectly balanced on my right hand.

I walked slowly down the center aisle, the eyes of three hundred dangerous men turning to watch the traditional serving of the wedding champagne.

Luca watched me approach, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the tension in my shoulders.

I reached the altar.

Vanessa reached out her delicate, lace-gloved hand to take the un-poisoned flute.

Luca reached for the other.

I didn't stop walking.

Instead of stopping at the altar, I deliberately caught the toe of my black sensible shoe on the thick, embroidered hem of Vanessa’s wedding dress.

I didn't just trip.

I threw my entire body weight forward, aiming my bruised ribs directly at the solid marble steps of the altar.

"Ah!" I cried out, a genuine scream of pain as I hit the stone.

The silver tray flew from my hands.

The two crystal champagne flutes crashed against the marble floor, shattering into hundreds of glittering, deadly pieces. The poisoned golden liquid splashed across the front of Vanessa’s pristine white gown.

"You clumsy idiot!" Vanessa shrieked, breaking character completely, furiously brushing the wet stains from her dress.

The chapel erupted in shocked murmurs.

Luca immediately dropped to his knees beside me, ignoring his furious bride.

"Rachel," he said, his strong hands gripping my shoulders, pulling me up from the broken glass. "Are you alright?"

I looked up into his dark eyes, gasping through the agonizing pain in my side.

"It was poisoned," I whispered frantically, loud enough only for him to hear. "She’s going to detonate the house."

Luca’s eyes flared with a lethal, terrifying clarity.

He stood up in one fluid motion, positioning his body entirely between me and Vanessa.

Vanessa was seething, signaling frantically to her guards at the back of the room.

"Such a tragedy," a loud, booming voice echoed from the back of the chapel.

Every head turned.

The heavy oak doors of the chapel swung open.

Walking down the aisle, flanked by Daniel and ten heavily armed Moretti enforcers, was a man who hadn't been seen in Chicago in twenty years.

My father, Thomas Bennett.

And walking right beside him, looking completely unafraid, was nineteen-year-old Mia.

Vanessa’s face drained of all color.

"What is the meaning of this, Luca?" one of the elderly syndicate bosses demanded, standing up from the front pew. "Who is this man?"

Luca didn't look at the boss. He kept his eyes locked on his trembling bride.

"That man is Thomas Bennett," Luca’s voice rang out, cold and absolute. "The man who saved this syndicate twenty years ago by hiding the master ledger from my father’s enemies."

Mia stepped forward, holding a heavy leather-bound book high in the air.

"And this," Mia said clearly, her voice echoing perfectly, "is the ledger. It proves that the woman standing at the altar is not Vanessa Bellini."

The murmurs in the chapel turned into a roar of confusion.

Vanessa took a step backward, her hand reaching desperately toward the bouquet of white roses resting on the altar.

"She is Vanessa Romano," Luca finished, his voice slicing through the noise. "Daughter of Carmine Romano. And she is here to murder the entire leadership of this syndicate today."

"Lies!" Vanessa screamed, her beautiful face twisting into a mask of pure hatred. "He’s lying! Kill them! Kill them all!"

She lunged for the bouquet on the altar.

I saw the small, black plastic detonator hidden among the white roses.

Before her fingers could brush the plastic, a gunshot deafened the room.

The bouquet exploded into a cloud of white petals and shredded plastic, the detonator completely destroyed by the bullet.

Everyone froze.