THE DEAD WOMAN’S VOICE IN THE DINING ROOM

The flashlight beam trembled slightly in Marco’s hand.

He was wearing his standard black chauffeur’s suit, but his usually calm, stoic face was pale and terrified.

“Put the gun down, Marco,” Luca said. His voice was incredibly gentle. Not the voice of a mafia boss facing an assassin, but an older brother talking to a frightened child.

“Arthur told me you were going to kill me, Boss,” Marco said, his voice cracking. “He said you found out who I really am.”

“And who are you, Marco?” Luca asked slowly.

Marco swallowed hard. “He said I’m your father’s bastard. He said you burn your enemies. And tonight, you were going to burn me.”

Vanessa let out a wet, bitter laugh.

“He’s the one burning the house down, you idiot,” she spat, pointing toward the orange glow lighting up the sky above the treeline. “Arthur tried to kill all of us so you could inherit the empire and he could control you.”

Marco looked at the fire in the distance. The gun in his hand wavered.

“No,” Marco whispered. “Arthur raised me. He protected me.”

“He used you,” I said softly, stepping slightly in front of Luca. “Marco, listen to me. I was in the house. I heard Arthur lock the door and light the gasoline.”

Marco’s eyes darted to me. He knew me. We had eaten lunch in the staff kitchen together a dozen times.

He looked closely at Luca’s face. At his own face reflected in Luca’s features.

They shared the exact same sharp jawline. The exact same piercing green eyes.

“You’re my brother,” Luca said, taking a slow step forward. “My father was a monster, Marco. But I am not my father. I don't kill family.”

Marco’s hand shook violently. He slowly lowered the gun.

“I didn't want this,” Marco choked out. “I just wanted to drive the cars.”

Luca closed the distance and did something I never thought I’d see him do. He pulled Marco into a tight embrace.

Marco dropped the gun. It hit the grass with a soft thud. He hugged Luca back, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder.

“We have to stop him,” Marco said, pulling back. “Arthur went to the downtown office. He’s calling a meeting of the Syndicate captains. He’s going to tell them you died in the fire and that I am the rightful heir.”

“Then we have to get there before they swear loyalty to him,” Luca said.

“How?” Vanessa asked, gesturing to our ruined clothes. “We look like we crawled out of a grave. And we don't have a car.”

Marco wiped his eyes. “I parked the armored SUV on the service road. Keys are in the ignition.”

Ten minutes later, we were speeding down the highway toward the glittering Chicago skyline.

I sat in the back seat next to Vanessa. She was staring out the window, completely silent. The polished, manipulative woman from the engagement dinner was gone.

“Why didn't you let him shoot me?” Vanessa asked quietly, not looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

“In the study. You could have let me burn. You owe me nothing.”

I looked at her dirty, tear-stained face.

“Because you were right,” I said softly. “Your family was ruined. You were just trying to survive.”

Vanessa finally turned to look at me. “Your mother saved Marco’s life at that train station. She bought him enough time for Arthur to find him before my father’s men did.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the heavy gold signet ring we had found on Father Gabriel.

“This belonged to my brother, Leo,” Vanessa said. “But it doesn't belong to me anymore.”

She reached over and dropped the heavy ring into my palm.

“Give it to your mother, Emma,” Vanessa whispered.

I stared at the ring. “Why?”

“Because my brother didn't die twenty years ago,” Vanessa said, a sad smile touching her lips. “Father Gabriel told me before he collapsed. Leo survived. He changed his name.”

My blood ran cold.

“What did he change it to?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Vanessa looked me dead in the eyes.