**THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE MADE ME SERVE DINNER TO THE DAUGHTER I'D GIVEN UP FOR ADOPTION TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS AGO—THEN ANNOUNCED, “SHE FINALLY GETS TO MEET THE MOTHER WHO DIDN'T WANT HER.” BUT WHEN THE YOUNG WOMAN ASKED, “WAS I REALLY THAT EASY TO GIVE AWAY?” LUCA PUT DOWN HIS GLASS.**

The heavy SUV hurtled down the dark, rain-slicked highway, but inside the cabin, all the air had been sucked out.

“My father.”

I stared at Luca, my mind violently rejecting the words he had just spoken.

“Your father?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Antonio Moretti? You’re telling me your own father ordered the hit on Matteo?”

Luca turned back to face the windshield, his hands gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles were white. The stoic, untouchable Don looked as though he was physically crumbling under the weight of the realization.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Luca said, his voice hollow, stripped of all authority. “My father was a traditionalist. He ruled with an iron fist. He believed the syndicate was a monarchy, and Matteo was the crown prince. When Matteo told him he wanted to leave the life to marry a civilian nurse... my father saw it as the ultimate betrayal.”

Marco glanced nervously at Luca from the driver’s seat. “Boss, you can’t think Don Antonio would kill his own flesh and blood.”

“He didn’t just kill him, Marco,” Luca snarled, a sudden, blinding rage flaring in his eyes. “He eradicated him. He used Arthur Bellini to broker the hit with the Volkovs to keep his own hands clean. He made it look like a tragic accident so the Commission wouldn’t ask questions.”

“But the babies,” Rebecca stammered, clutching my good arm. “Why would he sell me and give Alexei to the Russians?”

Luca let out a harsh, bitter laugh.

“Because he couldn’t stomach killing his grandchildren, but he couldn’t let you live as Morettis either,” Luca explained, the disgust evident in his tone. “If anyone found out Matteo had heirs, they would have been used as pawns against the family. So he erased you. He sold you to a wealthy investor to hide you in plain sight.”

Luca looked out the window into the darkness.

“And Alexei,” Luca murmured, his voice cracking. “He gave the boy to Victor Volkov as a peace offering. A twisted pact. He let the Russians raise a Moretti weapon to ensure peace between the families, knowing full well Victor would turn the boy into a monster.”

Tears streamed silently down my face.

My children’s lives had been destroyed, twisted into commodities and weapons, all by a grandfather obsessed with legacy and control. Antonio Moretti had played God with our lives, and he had died peacefully in his bed a year ago, taking his monstrous secrets with him.

The radio on the dashboard suddenly crackled to life, breaking the suffocating silence.

“Luca. We have a problem.”

It was Alexei. His voice was cold, mechanical, broadcasting from the tactical truck trailing behind us.

Luca grabbed the radio receiver. “What is it, Alexei?”

“I’m monitoring the encrypted police scanners,” Alexei reported. “The authorities aren’t just securing the estate. They’re coordinating with the FBI. They’ve issued a federal warrant for your arrest, Luca.”

“On what charges?” Marco demanded into the radio.

“RICO violations, murder, and domestic terrorism regarding the explosive device,” Alexei replied calmly. “But that’s not the bad news.”

I felt my stomach plummet. “What could be worse?”

“The FBI isn’t leading the hunt,” Alexei said, his tone sharpening. “The Commission has declared a state of emergency. The New York families just issued a green light on you, Luca. They’ve placed a ten-million-dollar bounty on your head for killing Victor Volkov without a sanctioned vote.”

Luca cursed violently in Italian, throwing the radio receiver onto the dashboard.

“The Commission wants to absorb Chicago,” Luca realized, his mind racing. “They’re using Victor’s death as an excuse to wipe me out and take over the territory.”

“Every hitman, cartel enforcer, and ambitious captain in the Midwest is going to be looking for this convoy,” Alexei warned. “We can’t go to Michigan. The compound is the first place they’ll look.”

“Alexei is right, Boss,” Marco said, gripping the steering wheel. “The Upper Peninsula is a fortress, but it’s a known location. If the Five Families besiege it, we won’t survive a week.”

“Then where do we go?” Rebecca cried, panic rising in her voice. “We can’t just drive around forever!”

Luca went quiet, staring at the GPS map glowing on the console.

For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the tires against the wet pavement.

“Catherine,” Luca said softly, turning to look at me. “When you were twenty... before Matteo died. Did he ever talk to you about a place? A place he wanted to take you when he left the life?”

I blinked, desperately searching my memories from twenty-eight years ago.

“He... he told me he bought a piece of land,” I stammered, the memory hazy but suddenly vital. “He said he bought it under a fake name. He wanted to build a house there. He said it was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and a lake.”

“Did he say where?” Luca pressed, his eyes wide with desperate hope.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to picture Matteo’s face, trying to hear his voice from a lifetime ago.

“I bought us a piece of heaven, Cat,” Matteo had whispered to me in the dark. “A little town in Wisconsin. Nobody asks questions there.”

I snapped my eyes open.

“Wisconsin,” I said. “A town called Door County. He said it was right on the water.”

Luca nodded rapidly. “Did he tell you the fake name he used?”

“He said he used his mother’s maiden name,” I replied. “Rossi. David Rossi.”

Luca turned to Marco. “Can you access the county property records from the onboard computer?”

“Give me a minute,” Marco grunted, keeping one hand on the wheel while he typed frantically on the encrypted laptop mounted to the dash.

A tense minute passed.

“Got it,” Marco announced, his voice triumphant. “A twenty-acre parcel in Door County, registered to a David Rossi twenty-nine years ago. Taxes have been paid automatically from a blind trust every year. It’s completely off the grid.”

“Change course,” Luca ordered. “We go to Wisconsin.”

Marco swung the heavy SUV into the next exit lane, changing our trajectory north.

Luca grabbed the radio. “Alexei. We have a new destination. Marco is sending you the coordinates. Maintain radio silence until we arrive.”

“Copy,” Alexei replied flatly.

The drive took five agonizing hours. The rain eventually gave way to a thick, creeping fog as we moved further north into the dense forests of Wisconsin.

Nobody slept. The tension in the cars was palpable, every passing headlights a potential threat.

As the sun began to rise, painting the fog in pale hues of gray, Marco turned down a narrow, unpaved logging road. We drove for another three miles deep into the woods, the trees towering over us like silent sentinels.

The road finally ended in a wide clearing overlooking a massive, calm lake.

Sitting in the center of the clearing was a beautiful, rustic log cabin. It looked untouched by time, perfectly preserved, waiting for a family that had never arrived.

Marco parked the SUV near the porch. Alexei’s tactical truck pulled up beside us, followed by the third vehicle containing the guards and Richard Bennett.

We stepped out of the cars into the freezing morning air.

I stared at the cabin, tears blurring my vision. This was the life Matteo had promised me. This was the home he had built for us.

Luca walked up the wooden steps and tested the front door. It was locked. He drew his gun and shot the padlock off, pushing the heavy door open.

“Clear the perimeter,” Luca ordered Marco and his guards. “Set up a watch schedule.”

We walked into the cabin. It was dusty, the furniture covered in white sheets, but it was fully furnished. A massive stone fireplace dominated the living room.

I stood in the center of the room, overwhelmed by a crushing wave of grief and lost time.

Rebecca walked up beside me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “It’s beautiful, Mom.”

I smiled through my tears, kissing her hair.

The front door opened again, and Alexei walked in. He looked completely out of place in the rustic cabin, his tactical gear imposing and lethal. He scanned the room, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before turning to Luca.

“We have a problem,” Alexei stated, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

Luca turned around, exhausted. “What is it now, Alexei?”

Alexei pointed out the window toward the third SUV.

“Richard Bennett,” Alexei said coldly. “He’s gone.”

My heart stopped.

“Gone?” Luca demanded, rushing to the window.

“He slipped away while the guards were setting the perimeter,” Alexei explained, his hand resting on the hilt of his combat knife. “I found fresh tracks heading back up the logging road.”

“Why would he run?” Rebecca panicked. “He doesn’t know where we are! He’ll freeze to death out there!”

Alexei looked at Rebecca, his blue-gray eyes completely devoid of sympathy.

“He didn’t run to escape the cold, sister,” Alexei said quietly.

Alexei reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black object. He tossed it onto the dusty wooden table.

It was a satellite phone.

“He stole this from one of the guards,” Alexei said. “He ran into the woods to get a signal.”