THE ENGAGEMENT RING BOUGHT WITH MY MOTHER’S BLOOD

The cold steel of Patrick’s gun pressed hard against my throat.

I couldn't breathe.

Luca stood at the top of the stairs, his gun aimed directly at Patrick’s head.

But Luca’s hands were shaking.

The ruthless mafia boss who had never hesitated to kill a threat was paralyzed. Because the threat was holding me.

“I said drop it!” Patrick roared, digging the barrel deeper into my skin.

Luca slowly lowered his weapon.

He let it slip from his fingers. It clattered down the wooden stairs, stopping near Patrick’s boots.

“Smart boy,” Patrick wheezed.

Two remaining corrupt cops rushed up the stairs, grabbing Luca by the arms and forcing him to his knees.

Patrick dragged me to my feet, keeping the gun pressed to my temple.

“Now,” Patrick said, breathing heavily. “You’re going to walk out to that pond, Emma, and you’re going to dig around in the mud until you find my key.”

I looked at Luca.

He was on his knees, bleeding from a graze on his cheek, but his eyes were locked onto mine.

Wait, his eyes seemed to say.

I swallowed hard.

“You’re going to kill us anyway,” I said to Patrick.

“Yes, I am,” Patrick laughed coldly. “But if you get the key, I’ll make it quick. If you don’t, I’ll shoot Luca in the kneecaps, and make you watch him bleed out before I kill you.”

He shoved me toward the ruined front doors.

We stepped out onto the porch. The storm had broken, leaving the night air crisp and cold.

The koi pond was ten yards away.

“Walk,” Patrick ordered.

I took a step.

Then another.

I thought about my father. A man I never knew, murdered in cold blood by the monster holding a gun to my head.

I thought about my mother, locked in a glass room for eighteen years.

I thought about Elena, drugged and stolen from her son.

I wasn't going to let him win.

I stopped walking.

“Keep moving!” Patrick barked.

I slowly reached into the pocket of my sundress.

My hand wrapped around the smooth, heavy metal of the spare magazine Luca had handed me in the kitchen.

I didn't have a gun. I had dropped it on the stairs.

But a fully loaded 9mm magazine is a solid block of brass and steel.

“I said move!” Patrick yelled, stepping closer.

I spun around with every ounce of strength in my body.

I drove the heavy steel magazine directly into Patrick’s wounded shoulder—the exact spot Luca had shot him during the dinner party crossfire.

Patrick screamed, his grip faltering.

His gun discharged wildly into the air.

I didn't stop. I brought my knee up, driving it into his groin.

Patrick collapsed, dropping his weapon.

I kicked the gun into the grass.

From inside the house, two massive gunshots echoed.

Bang. Bang.

A second later, Luca burst through the front doors.

He had disarmed the cops the second Patrick was outside.

Luca ran down the steps, his weapon raised, aimed squarely at Patrick, who was writhing on the grass.

“Give me a reason,” Luca roared, his eyes blazing. “Give me one reason not to put a bullet between your eyes.”

Patrick looked up, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He laughed, a wet, rattling sound.

“Because if you kill me, Luca... you’re just like your father.”

Luca stared down at him.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

I walked over and put my hand gently over Luca’s gun.

“He’s right,” I said softly.

Luca looked at me, his chest heaving.

“We don’t kill him,” I said, looking down at Patrick with pure disgust. “We let the federal government bury him in a hole so deep he’ll forget what sunlight looks like.”

In the distance, the wail of dozens of police sirens pierced the night.

But they weren't local cops.

They were black FBI tactical SUVs, tearing up the driveway.

I had hit the silent panic button in the panic room before locking my mother and Elena inside.

The agents swarmed the lawn, dragging Patrick up and slapping heavy irons on his wrists.

Patrick didn't look smug anymore. He looked terrified.

He knew exactly what happened to cops who went to federal prison.

Luca lowered his gun. He dropped it onto the grass.

He turned to me.

He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my neck, breathing in the scent of the rain and the smoke.