THE MAFIA BOSS NOTICED I WAS SERVING DINNER WITHOUT EVER TURNING MY LEFT SIDE TOWARD THE TABLE—AND THE MAN BESIDE HIM STOPPED EATING. At first, I thought nobody had noticed.

I didn’t lock the door.

I couldn't.

The scream echoed again, high and jagged, tearing through the pristine quiet of the Romano mansion. It wasn't a scream of pain. It was a scream of sheer, unadulterated panic.

I gripped the doorframe, fighting the sharp pull in my ribs, and stepped into the hallway.

“Anna, go back!” Marco yelled from the bottom of the grand staircase, his gun already drawn.

I ignored him. I grabbed the mahogany railing and forced myself down the stairs, one agonizing step at a time. By the time I reached the ground floor, my breathing was shallow and ragged.

The heavy double doors to Luca’s private study were wide open.

I stumbled to the threshold and froze.

The room was in chaos.

Maria, the stoic, iron-willed housekeeper who had run this estate for thirty years, was on her knees in the center of the Persian rug. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her hands clutching her apron.

Anthony Vale was not bound to a chair.

He was standing behind Luca’s massive oak desk, holding a silver letter opener to his own throat.

But that wasn't what made my blood run cold.

Lying on the polished wood of the desk, perfectly centered under the warm glow of the reading lamp, was a delicate, wooden rosary.

It was small. Child-sized. The beads were painted a soft, faded pink.

“Tell him, Maria!” Anthony screamed, his composure entirely shattered. The suave, arrogant estate manager I knew was gone. He looked cornered. Wild. “Tell him what we did!”

Luca stood ten feet away from Anthony. He didn't have a weapon drawn. He didn't look angry. He looked like a statue carved from ice.

“Put the knife down, Anthony,” Luca said evenly.

“She has her!” Maria sobbed, rocking back and forth on her knees. She looked up at Luca, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with terror. “Oh, God, Luca, forgive me. He took my grandson. He said if I didn't help him get Leo into the basement, they would kill my grandson.”

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.

Anthony’s eyes snapped to me in the doorway. A cruel, desperate smile twisted his lips.

“The little maid,” Anthony sneered. “You ruined the timeline, Anna. You weren't supposed to be in that elevator. You made everything messy.”

“Where is my brother?” Luca asked. His voice didn't rise in volume, but the sheer force of it made the crystal glasses on the bar cart rattle.

“Leo is gone,” Anthony spat, pressing the letter opener tighter against his skin. A thin line of blood appeared. “He’s halfway to the docks by now. But that doesn't matter. What matters is the girl.”

Anthony pointed a shaking finger at the pink rosary on the desk.

“You think I’m the mastermind, Luca?” Anthony laughed, a wet, hysterical sound. “You think I have the power to hide a dead woman for four years? To orchestrate all of this?”

Luca didn't move. “Who do you work for, Anthony?”

“I work for the man who is currently sitting in a black SUV outside St. Jude’s Orphanage,” Anthony whispered. “With your niece.”

The room spun.

I grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling.

St. Jude’s. It was on the south side of the city. Thirty minutes away.

“He wanted the waterfront routes,” Anthony babbled, his eyes darting frantically between Luca and Marco, who had moved silently into the room, his gun aimed squarely at Anthony’s head. “He said if I brought him Leo, he would let me live. But Leo fought back. He slipped the bracelet to the maid. He ruined everything!”

“Who?” Luca demanded, taking one slow, deliberate step forward.

“I didn't lock the gates, Luca!” Anthony cried out, tears of genuine terror streaming down his face.

The Reversal hit me like a physical blow.

Luca had ordered the gates locked. I heard him do it.

I looked at Luca. He was staring at Anthony, processing the words.

“Marco,” Luca said softly. “Did you lock the main gates?”

Marco frowned, his gun unwavering. “No, boss. You told me to check the cameras. I assumed you told the gatehouse to lock down.”

Luca slowly turned his head to look at Marco.

Then he looked at Maria, who was still sobbing on the floor.

Then he looked at me.

“The gates locked from the outside,” Luca whispered.

Before anyone could react, the heavy, crystal chandelier above us flickered. Once. Twice.

And then every light in the Romano estate went pitch black.

In the darkness, I heard the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor, followed by the deafening crack of a gunshot.

“Luca!” I screamed.

Someone grabbed my arm in the dark, yanking me backward into the hallway. A hand clamped hard over my mouth. I thrashed, kicking out, the pain in my ribs blinding me.

“Quiet,” a deep, rough voice whispered against my ear.

I froze. I knew that voice.

It was Leo.

And as he pulled me deeper into the pitch-black corridor, my foot brushed against something soft on the floor.