THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED HIS FIANCÉE FORCE ME TO PICK UP HER SCATTERED PEARLS WITH AN INJURED HAND—THEN SHE SAID, “SHE HURT IT IN MY BEDROOM,” BEFORE HE HAD ASKED WHAT HAPPENED. The first pearl rolled beneath Luca Moretti's chair.

"Open the door, Emily."

Vanessa’s voice didn't have the shrill, arrogant tone she usually used when demanding her tea or criticizing my cleaning. It was dead. Flat. The voice of a woman who had absolutely nothing left to lose.

I looked at Leo, who was staring at the door with wide, frightened eyes. I put a finger to my lips, signaling him to stay completely silent.

"Mr. Mercer," I called out, my voice trembling slightly. "Tell her to step away. If she tries to break this door down, Mr. Moretti will hear it."

"Luca is in the security bunker in the basement," Vanessa answered instead of the lawyer. "He's busy looking for ghosts. He won't hear a thing."

"Vanessa, stop," Anthony hissed. I could hear the lawyer moving, perhaps grabbing her arm. "This wasn't the plan. We were going to handle this quietly."

"Quietly?" Vanessa let out a broken, humorless laugh. "Julian was in the garden today, Anthony! He spoke to Luca’s nephew. He dropped his father's watch. He's tired of waiting. He wants the marriage finalized now so he can execute the final phase."

"And what phase is that?" I asked through the door, gripping the child's drawing so tightly my injured knuckles screamed in pain.

"The part where I become a very wealthy widow," Vanessa said coldly.

The pieces slammed together with terrifying clarity. Julian Rossi didn't just want revenge. He wanted the Moretti empire. But as a sworn enemy, he could never take it by force without triggering a massive gang war. So he created a Trojan horse. Vanessa.

If Vanessa married Luca, and Luca was assassinated shortly after... Vanessa would inherit everything. And Julian, holding her secret son hostage, would control Vanessa. He would rule the Moretti family without ever firing a shot at the soldiers.

"You're going to let him kill Luca?" I asked, feeling a wave of disgust.

"Luca has lived his whole life bathed in blood!" Vanessa shouted, her composure finally cracking. "He chose this life! My son didn't! He's four years old, Emily! He's locked in a basement in God-knows-where, terrified and crying for me!"

Suddenly, a heavy thud hit the door. Anthony had slammed Vanessa against the wood.

"Keep your voice down!" Anthony snarled. "If Julian's men inside the house hear you—"

I froze. Inside the house?

"What do you mean, inside the house?" I asked, backing away from the door.

"Julian didn't just send a watch," Anthony said, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper. "He has eyes on the inside. That's why I've been trying to negotiate the boy's release secretly. I've been trying to trade the Moretti ledger for the child, to save Luca from having to go to war again. I was trying to save my boss!"

The reversal made my head spin. Anthony Mercer wasn't a traitor who had sold out Luca. He was a deeply flawed, desperate loyalist who had discovered Vanessa's secret and tried to play a dangerous game of chess with a dead man to protect his employer. But he had failed.

"Julian doesn't want the ledger anymore," Vanessa sobbed on the other side of the door. "He sent me something tonight. A warning."

"What did he send?" Anthony asked.

I heard the sound of a zipper, then a soft metallic clinking against the hardwood floor of the hallway.

"He sent this," Vanessa wept.

Even through the thick oak door, I heard Anthony suck in a sharp, horrified breath.

"My God," Anthony whispered.

"It belonged to his mother," Vanessa cried. "Julian sent it to tell me time is up. If the wedding doesn't happen this Saturday, he's going to send me my son in pieces."

I didn't need to see it to know what it was. But I had to know for sure.

"Mr. Mercer," I called out. "What did she drop?"

"A silver rosary," Anthony said, his voice hollow with defeat. "A child's silver rosary."

A heavy silence fell over the hallway. For a brief second, the only sound was Vanessa's muffled weeping.

Then, the sound of a radio crackled.

"Mr. Mercer?" It was Daniel's voice, coming through a security walkie-talkie out in the hall. "Luca is asking for you in the bunker. He wants to review the catering staff for the engagement party tomorrow."

"Tell him I'm on my way," Anthony replied, clearing his throat.

"I don't need to," Daniel's voice suddenly sounded entirely different. It wasn't coming through the radio. It was coming from right outside the bedroom door.

My blood ran completely cold.

"Daniel?" Anthony said, his voice instantly laced with confusion. "What are you doing up here? The perimeter—"

A muffled thud echoed in the hallway. A gasp. And then the heavy sound of a body collapsing against the oak door, sliding down to the floor.

Vanessa screamed. It was a short, sharp sound, immediately cut off, as if a hand had been clamped over her mouth.

I grabbed Leo, pulling him into my chest, backing up until we hit the far wall of the bedroom. My mind raced in pure terror. Julian's man inside the house. The person who controlled the cameras. The person who managed the gates.

It was Daniel. The Head of Security.

"Emily," Daniel's voice came through the door. It was calm. Professional. Chilling. "I know you're in there with the boy. Mr. Rossi has moved the timeline up. The engagement party tomorrow night? That's going to be the wedding."