THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE ORDERED ME TO THROW AWAY HIS LATE FATHER’S OLD ARMY JACKET—BUT WHEN LUCA SAW WHAT FELL FROM THE POCKET, HE STOPPED THE ENTIRE PARTY.

The room went completely still.

“What is that?” Vanessa demanded, her voice sharp with sudden panic.

I stood up, holding the tiny, rusted key between my fingers. I looked at Luca, who had stopped writing, the pen hovering over the legal documents.

“My father drove the car the night Clara died,” I said, looking directly at Vanessa. “He survived the crash. He was the one who pulled Clara from the wreckage. And he was the one who found Daniel Bellini’s car on the side of the road after he ran them off.”

Vanessa’s face paled. “You’re lying.”

“My father had a stroke six months ago, but his mind is perfect,” I continued, my voice gaining strength. “He kept this watch on him every single day. Because he knew that one day, he would need what was inside it.”

I turned to Luca. “Do you know what this key opens?”

Luca stared at it. His eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned. “That’s a safe deposit box key. From the First National Bank of Chicago. My father used to keep his most secure files there.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And my father was Michael Moretti’s most trusted driver. He didn’t just save Leo that night. He secured the evidence.”

Vanessa lunged forward, dropping her aristocratic poise entirely. “Give me that key!”

Luca was faster. He intercepted her, grabbing her wrist and twisting it hard behind her back. Vanessa shrieked, dropping to her knees.

“Don’t move,” Luca snarled, his knee pressing into her spine.

“You can’t do this!” Vanessa screamed, her face pressed against the dusty carpet. “The bracelet! If my heart rate spikes too high, it triggers the injection! You’re going to kill him!”

Luca froze, easing his pressure slightly.

I looked at the silver bracelet on Leo’s wrist. The little red light was blinking faster now.

“We need the override code,” I said, panic rising in my chest.

“I’ll never give it to you,” Vanessa spat, gasping for air. “Sign the papers, Luca. Sign them, or watch your son die in front of you.”

Luca looked at me, sheer desperation in his eyes. He couldn’t risk Leo’s life. He started to reach for the pen again.

“Wait,” I said, my mind racing.

I looked around the dusty library. Vanessa was a creature of habit. A woman obsessed with control, luxury, and legacy. She wouldn’t memorize a complex alphanumeric code. She would use something meaningful to her. Something arrogant.

I dropped to my knees next to Leo and examined the heavy silver bracelet. There was a tiny digital keypad on the side. Four digits.

“What’s the code, Vanessa?” Luca yelled, pressing his gun against her temple.

“Go to hell,” she laughed darkly.

I looked at the green Army jacket I was wearing. The jacket she desperately wanted. Michael Moretti’s jacket.

Then I remembered the pawn ticket she dropped at the mansion.

“Vanessa is obsessed with dates,” I muttered to myself. “The day she pawned the watch. The day of the engagement dinner. She plans everything around anniversaries.”

I looked at Luca. “When did your father die?”

Luca frowned, confused. “October 14th.”

I typed 10-1-4 into the bracelet.

A red light flashed. ERROR.

“It’s not that,” I panicked. The light blinked faster.

Vanessa cackled from the floor. “Two more wrong guesses and it injects, Emma. Go ahead. Play Russian roulette with your nephew.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block out her voice. I thought back to the very first thing I found in the jacket pocket. The velvet box. The silver star medal.

The letter signed by Daniel Bellini.

One day Luca should know who really pulled him out of that car.

“Luca,” I asked quickly, “what year was the car crash? The one where your father supposedly saved you?”

“Nineteen ninety-eight,” Luca said.

“What month?”

“August.”

August 1998. 0898.

The year Vanessa’s father went to prison. The year her life changed. The year her revenge started.

I typed 0-8-9-8 into the keypad.

A sharp beep echoed in the quiet room.

The red light turned green.