TAKE THAT LITTLE GIRL'S COAT AND PUT HER WITH THE SERVANTS, YOU IGNORANT LITTLE MAID! SHE ISN'T A MORETTI!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED H

The silence in the kitchen was suffocating.

Grace was sobbing hysterically on the floor, clinging to Sophie, who had finally woken up and was crying in confusion.

Luca lowered his gun a fraction of an inch.

I could see the agonizing calculation in his eyes. He had the man who helped cover up his brother’s murder dead to rights. But if he pulled the trigger, twenty innocent families would die in a fire.

"Forty-five seconds, Luca," Antonio taunted, checking his gold watch. "Make the call. Let my sister go."

Giovanni stepped forward, his face pale. "Mr. Moretti, you must yield. The cost of civilian lives is too high."

Luca stared at Antonio, his knuckles white around the grip of the pistol.

"You burn that building," Luca said, his voice devoid of all humanity, "and I will personally dismantle your family piece by piece."

"Maybe," Antonio smiled. "But the building still burns. Thirty seconds."

I looked at the crayon drawing on the island.

Then I looked at the cast-iron skillet still in my hand.

I wasn't a mafia boss. I wasn't a lawyer. I was a maid. But I had grown up in Chicago, and I knew how cowards like Antonio Bellini operated. They never did the dirty work themselves. They hired middle-men.

"Wait," I blurted out.

Antonio glared at me. "Shut up, girl."

I ignored him. I looked at Luca. "Mr. Moretti, look at the back of the drawing."

Luca frowned, but he reached out with his left hand and flipped the paper over.

There was a stamp on the back. It read: St. Jude’s Hope Clinic - Art Therapy Room.

"Vanessa didn't get that drawing from Grace’s apartment," I said quickly, my mind racing. "She got it from the clinic when she visited Isabella. She kept it as a trophy."

Antonio’s smile faltered for a second.

"So what?" Antonio snapped. "My men are still at her building."

"Are they?" I challenged, stepping out from behind the counter. "Grace, do you live in a house with a red door?"

Grace looked up, confused. "No. I live in a brick apartment complex. On the fourth floor."

I looked back at Antonio.

"He’s lying," I said. "He doesn't have men at her apartment. He’s bluffing to save his sister."

Antonio pulled a phone from his pocket. "I’ll make the call right now, you stupid bitch."

He hit a button and put the phone on speaker.

It rang twice.

Someone picked up.

"Yeah, Boss?" a gruff voice answered.

Antonio grinned at me. "Are you at the target location?"

"Yeah. Parked out front."

"Describe the building."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Uh. Small wooden house. Red front door. Peeling paint on the porch."

Antonio’s face went completely blank.

He slowly lowered the phone.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "He sent them to the house in the drawing," I said. "The house Isabella lived in before she died. A house that’s been empty for five years."

Luca didn't hesitate.

Before Antonio could react, Luca stepped forward and drove the butt of his pistol directly into Antonio’s jaw.

The Bellini boss crumpled to the floor like a sack of rocks.

The remaining bodyguard raised his hands instantly, backing away in terror.

Luca stood over Antonio’s unconscious body, his chest heaving.

He looked at me.

"Emily," Luca said quietly.

"Yes, sir?" I whispered.

"Remind me to double your salary."

He turned to the terrified bodyguard.

"Pick him up," Luca commanded. "Take him out of my house. And tell him that if I ever see a Bellini in Chicago again, I won't hesitate."

The bodyguard practically dragged his unconscious boss out the back door.

As soon as they were gone, the tension in the room shattered.

Grace buried her face in Sophie’s hair, weeping loudly.

Giovanni slumped against the marble counter, wiping sweat from his brow.

Luca slowly lowered his gun and placed it on the island. He ran both hands through his dark hair, the ruthless mafia boss suddenly looking like an incredibly tired, grieving uncle.

He walked over to Grace and knelt down again.

He didn't speak. He just gently wrapped his large arms around Grace and his niece, pulling them into a fierce, protective embrace.

Sophie hugged him back, her small hands clutching his expensive suit.

"You’re safe," Luca whispered into Sophie’s hair. "I swear on my life, no one will ever hurt you again."

I watched them, tears pricking my own eyes.

The nightmare was finally over.

Or so I thought.

Because right as Luca pulled away to wipe a tear from Sophie’s cheek, the heavy kitchen doors swung open again.

This time, it was the head of Luca’s security team.

He looked completely panicked.

"Boss," the guard gasped. "The police convoy transporting Vanessa to the precinct... it just got hit."

Luca stood up abruptly. "What do you mean, hit?"