THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE CALLED ME “A USELESS LITTLE MAID” WHEN I STOPPED THE PIANIST IN THE MIDDLE OF THEIR ENGAGEMENT DINNER—BUT WHEN LUCA HEARD THE SONG SHE WAS PLAYING, HE STOOD UP SO FAST HIS CHAIR FELL BACKWARD. “Stop playing.”

Luca and I both spun toward the closet.

The louvered doors were slightly ajar. I took a slow step forward, my nursing instincts kicking in beneath the sheer terror of the moment.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, crouching down. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

I pulled the door open fully.

Sitting on the floor, clutching a small canvas backpack to his chest, was a little boy. He couldn’t have been older than six. He had a mop of dark curls and large, striking brown eyes that mirrored the man standing right behind me.

Luca froze. The photograph of his mother slipped from his fingers, fluttering to the floor.

“Who are you?” Luca asked, his voice cracking.

The boy looked up, his chin trembling. “I’m Leo. Nonna told me to hide in the dark when the bad men came.”

“Nonna?” I asked gently.

“Sofia,” the boy whispered.

Answer one: Sofia hadn’t just been hiding to protect herself. She had been raising a child in secret.

Open one: Who were Leo’s parents?

Open two: How did Vanessa’s family find out about him tonight?

Luca dropped to his knees, his massive frame suddenly looking incredibly fragile. He reached out a shaking hand, stopping just short of touching the boy’s shoulder. “Leo. Do you know who your father is?”

The boy reached into his shirt and pulled out a tarnished silver chain. Dangling from it was a heavy gold ring bearing the Moretti family crest.

“My dad went to heaven,” Leo said matter-of-factly. “Nonna said he was a hero. His name was Matteo.”

The color completely drained from Luca’s face. Matteo was Luca’s older brother. He had supposedly died in a car accident five years ago—an accident that left Luca as the sole heir to the Moretti empire.

Reversal: Luca wasn’t the only heir. The boy sitting in the closet was the true rightful head of the family. Vanessa wasn’t trying to marry Luca for power; she was trying to trap him, force him to sign over his assets, and eliminate the actual bloodline.

“They took her,” Leo cried, tears finally spilling over his cheeks. “The man in the green coat. He grabbed Nonna. She told me to stay quiet, but she dropped this.”

Leo opened his small, sweaty palm.

Resting in his hand was a heavy, ornate silver pocket watch.

I recognized it instantly. I had polished it three days ago.

“That’s Rossi’s watch,” I breathed, looking at Luca. “Your head of security.”

Luca’s eyes hardened, the grief instantly replaced by a lethal, terrifying focus. Rossi hadn’t been standing guard in the hallway. Rossi was the man who had taken Sofia. He was on Vanessa’s payroll.

“They’re going to kill her,” I said, the reality of our situation sinking in. We were locked in a room on the third floor. Vanessa’s father was arriving. And Sofia was in the hands of a traitor.

Luca stood up. He didn’t panic. He walked over to the massive stone fireplace on the far wall.

“My grandfather built this house during the Prohibition era,” Luca said quietly, running his hands along the carved stone mantle. “He didn’t trust doors.”

He pressed hard against a sculpted lion’s head in the center of the stone.

With a deep, grinding sound, the entire back panel of the fireplace shifted inward, revealing a pitch-black, narrow service shaft.

“Take Leo,” Luca ordered, pulling a small flashlight from his suit pocket and handing it to me. “The shaft leads to the old wine cellar. Go to the garage, take the black SUV, and drive to the harbor.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” I said, grabbing his arm.

“You have to, Rachel. They don’t know about the boy. If Vanessa’s father finds him, Leo is dead. Protect my nephew.”

I looked at the terrified child, then back at Luca.

Before I could argue, the sound of heavy boots echoed in the hallway outside. A key scraped in the deadbolt.

“Go!” Luca shoved me gently toward the hidden passage.

I grabbed Leo’s hand and pulled him into the darkness of the shaft, pulling the stone panel shut just as the bedroom door burst open.

Through a tiny crack in the stone, I saw three armed men step into the room. But it wasn’t Vanessa’s father leading them.

It was a man I recognized from the framed photos in the downstairs study. A man who was supposed to have died twenty years ago.