THE MAFIA BOSS FROZE WHEN THE WAITRESS SAID, “THAT CABLE WAS CUT”—THEN TURNED TO HIS MEN AND SAID, “LOCK THE CLUB.”

The word hung in the stale air of the union hall like a physical weight.

Sister.

I gripped the edge of the wooden desk to stop myself from collapsing.

"No," I choked out, tears instantly flooding my eyes. "No, my father was Thomas Mercer. He raised me. He read me bedside stories. He taught me about elevator cables. He was my father."

"Biologically," Arthur said gently, tapping the yellowed paper, "Carlo is your father. Tommy altered the public records later to protect you. When Carlo went to prison fifteen years ago, Tommy cut all ties. He hid you."

Vincent was staring at me. His eyes were wide, taking in my features, searching for the resemblance.

"That's why he wanted the boy," Vincent said, his voice hollow. "Leo."

I froze.

My sister, Sarah, had been born four years after me.

"Wait," I said, panic rising again. "Sarah... was she...?"

Arthur shook his head. "Sarah was Tommy's blood. Just you, Grace. Just you were Carlo's."

Vincent turned and walked out of the union hall without a word.

I grabbed the birth certificate, shoved it into my pocket, and ran after him.

He was leaning against the town car, staring blankly at the Chicago skyline.

"Vincent," I said softly.

He didn't look at me. "My entire life, I thought I was the only heir. I thought my father hated me because I was weak. But he hated me because I wasn't you."

"What?"

Vincent finally turned to me. There was a profound sadness in his eyes.

"In traditional families like ours, blood is everything. But Carlo never wanted the life for his children. He wanted us legitimate." Vincent let out a bitter laugh. "He sent me to boarding school. He tried to keep me out. I forced my way in. But you... he kept you hidden perfectly. He hid the money for you."

Answer one: The fifty million dollars wasn't a war chest. It was an inheritance. My inheritance.

Open two: If Carlo wanted to protect me, why did he order a hit on my apartment? Why did he kidnap Leo?

"The hit," I said aloud. "The men at my apartment. The elevator."

Vincent's eyes snapped into focus. "Frankie Russo."

"Frankie worked for Uncle Sal," I remembered.

"Sal," Vincent hissed. "It wasn't my father pulling the strings on the streets. It was Uncle Sal. Sal wanted the money. Sal faked the orders from Carlo to start a war between us."

We had taken down Don Carlo.

But the real snake was still in the grass.

Vincent pulled his phone out.

"We need to get back to the lake house. Now."

"Why?"

"Because I left Leo with my security detail. And half my security detail was hired by Uncle Sal."

We jumped into the car. Vincent slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

The engine roared as we tore through the city streets.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out. It was a text message from an unknown number.

It was a picture of Leo's stuffed bear, lying on the floor of the lake house, covered in blood.