THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED HIS FIANCÉE SWITCH OFF A 63-YEAR-OLD COOK'S RINGING PHONE AT HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN SHE SAID, “HER DAUGHTER'S HAVING A BABY, NOT DYING,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE OLD WOMAN WAS CRYING AND BEGGING TO LEAVE.

The waiting room felt like a tomb.

Three hours had passed since they rushed Megan into surgery.

Rose sat in a stiff vinyl chair, clutching a Styrofoam cup of cold coffee I had brought her.

She hadn't taken a single sip.

David was pacing the length of the hallway, his hands buried in his hair.

Luca was in the donor wing, giving as much blood as the doctors would legally allow.

I sat beside Rose, staring at the floor, trying to process the Reversal that had just shattered everything we knew.

Rose wasn't just a cook.

She had been Enzo Moretti's secret wife.

And Megan wasn't just a girl who grew up without a father. She was Luca's cousin, carrying the next heir of the Moretti bloodline.

"Why didn't you tell him?" I whispered softly.

Rose stared straight ahead.

"Because the Bellini family killed Enzo," she said, her voice hollow and dry. "Vanessa's father ordered the hit. If they knew Enzo had a child, they would have hunted Megan down to end the bloodline."

My breath caught in my throat.

Vanessa's family.

"I hid in plain sight," Rose continued. "I took a job in the kitchens of the very family that could have protected me, because staying a servant meant I was invisible."

The elevator doors at the end of the hall suddenly dinged.

I looked up.

Stepping off the elevator, flanked by two massive men in dark suits, was Vanessa.

She was still wearing her red engagement gown, though she had thrown a mink coat over her shoulders.

She looked furious.

"Where is he?" Vanessa demanded, marching toward us.

David stopped pacing. "Excuse me?"

"My fiancé," she snapped. "Where is Luca?"

"He's in the medical wing," I said, standing up to block her path to Rose. "He's donating blood."

Vanessa let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Donating blood? For a maid's daughter? This has gone far enough."

She looked down at Rose, who hadn't moved from her chair.

"You are fired, Rose. Your little performance tonight has officially cost you your job."

Rose didn't look up.

"I don't care about the job, Miss Bellini. I only care about my daughter."

Vanessa leaned closer.

"Then you should have taught your daughter not to breed with people who can't afford their own medical bills."

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed Vanessa's wrist.

"Don't speak to her like that," I warned.

Vanessa yanked her arm away, her eyes flashing with pure venom.

"Don't touch me, you little rat."

As she pulled her arm back, the sleeve of her mink coat slid down.

Wrapped tightly around Vanessa's wrist was a heavy, braided leather bracelet.

It was old, the leather cracked and worn from years of use.

Rose finally looked up.

Her eyes locked onto the bracelet.

The color completely drained from her face.

"Where did you get that?" Rose whispered, standing up so fast her chair scraped against the floor.

Vanessa quickly pulled her sleeve down, covering the leather.

"It's a family antique. Mind your business."

"That's a lie," Rose said, stepping forward. Her voice wasn't trembling anymore. It was hard. "Enzo made that bracelet. He braided it himself."

Vanessa's men stepped forward, but Vanessa held up a hand to stop them.

She smiled, a cold, terrifying smirk.

"You always were smart, Rose."

She stepped closer to the older woman.

"My father took this off Enzo's wrist the night he died. He kept it as a trophy. And when I found out you were secretly working in Luca's house... I started wearing it."

My stomach turned over.

Vanessa knew.

She had known who Rose was all along.

"You tortured me," Rose breathed, tears of horror filling her eyes. "For years, you treated me like dirt, knowing exactly what your family did to my husband."

"And now," Vanessa whispered softly, "I'm going to finish the job."