**THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME LIMP INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH A BROKEN PORCH-SWING CHAIN WRAPPED AROUND MY BLEEDING HAND—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE FELL TRYING TO FIX THE LEFT HOOK,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY I WAS CARRYING IT.**

~1000 words

The acrid smell of the white smoke hit the back of my throat like shattered glass.

I coughed violently, my eyes instantly watering as the thick gas began filling the small, airtight viewing room inside the bank vault.

“Tear gas!” Luca roared, pulling his jacket up over his nose and mouth.

He lunged for the heavy steel door, grabbing the brass handle and yanking with all his strength. It didn't budge. The magnetic lock had been triggered from the outside, sealing us in a ten-by-ten foot concrete box.

“They knew we were coming!” I choked out, dropping to the floor where the air was slightly clearer. I shoved the gold charm bracelet and the microfiche film deep into the pocket of my coat, terrified of losing the only proof that could save our lives.

Vanessa’s men hadn't just been searching the estate; they had been watching the bank.

Luca didn't waste time panicking. He pulled his heavy pistol, aimed directly at the electronic keypad panel beside the door, and fired three deafening shots.

The panel exploded in a shower of sparks and plastic, but the heavy deadbolts inside the steel door didn't disengage. The failsafe had locked them in place.

“We’re trapped,” Luca coughed, his eyes red and streaming, dropping to his knees beside me. The smoke was becoming unbearable, burning my lungs with every shallow breath.

“Luca, I can't breathe,” I gasped, the room spinning around me.

“Cover your face, Claire!” Luca commanded, tearing his expensive silk tie from his neck. He quickly wrapped it around my mouth and nose, tying it tight behind my head. “Breathe through the fabric. Don't panic.”

He looked around the small room. The only other feature besides the table and chairs was the air vent near the ceiling pouring the gas into the room.

Luca stood up, grabbed one of the heavy mahogany chairs, and swung it like a baseball bat directly into the metal grate of the air vent. The grate dented, but held.

He swung again, his powerful arms straining, shattering the wooden chair into splinters. The metal grate finally popped off, falling to the floor.

“Give me your coat!” Luca yelled over the hissing sound of the gas.

I stripped off my damp jacket, clutching the gold bracelet in my fist, and handed the coat to him. Luca jammed the thick wool fabric directly into the duct, violently shoving it deep inside to block the flow of the gas.

The hissing stopped. The smoke stopped pouring in, but the room was already thick with the toxic cloud.

We were suffocating slowly.

“They’re just going to wait for us to pass out, then come in and execute us,” Luca rasped, sitting back against the wall, pulling me against his chest to share the remaining pocket of slightly cleaner air near the floorboards.

I rested my head against his shoulder, my heart pounding a terrified rhythm.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face, stinging my irritated eyes. “I should have stayed at the safe house. I’m just a maid. I’m slowing you down.”

“Stop,” Luca said fiercely, his hand gripping the back of my neck, forcing me to look up at him. “You are not a maid, Clara. You are the strongest woman I have ever met. You took a wrench to a hitman to save your son. You carried my mother when the swing broke. You belong at the head of this family, not serving it.”

The conviction in his dark eyes cut through the terror of the smoke-filled room.

“If we make it out of this vault,” Luca swore, his voice a low, gravelly promise, “I am going to burn Vanessa’s empire to the ground. And then I’m going to make sure you never have to be afraid again.”

I believed him. In that terrifying, suffocating moment, I realized I trusted this mafia boss more than I had ever trusted anyone in my life.

Suddenly, a heavy, metallic CLANG echoed from the other side of the steel door.

We froze, raising our weapons.

Someone was prying the heavy metal hinges with a crowbar.

“Get behind me,” Luca ordered, struggling to his feet, aiming his pistol directly at the center of the door. I pulled the small suppressed pistol from my pocket and aimed it over his shoulder, my hands trembling violently.

The heavy steel door groaned, sparks flying as an industrial torch cut through the remaining deadbolt.

With a final, deafening crash, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway, wearing a heavy tactical gas mask and holding a massive breacher's shotgun, was a mountain of a man.

He pulled the gas mask off, revealing a scarred, grizzled face.

It was Daniel. Luca’s head of security.

“Boss, we gotta move!” Daniel coughed, waving the smoke away. “Vanessa’s hit squad is holding the main lobby. They thought they had you gassed out. I came through the service elevator.”

“Daniel,” Luca breathed in pure relief, lowering his weapon. “I told you to stay at the safe house!”

“I left four of my best men with Thomas and the boy, boss,” Daniel said grimly, handing Luca a spare magazine for his pistol. “But when the bank’s silent alarms were tripped and rerouted to Bellini frequencies, I knew it was a trap. We’re going to have to shoot our way out of the lobby.”

“Let’s go,” Luca said, his eyes turning cold and lethal. He looked back at me. “Stay right behind my shoulder. Do not stop running until we hit the street.”

We burst out of the viewing room into the massive underground vault.

As we hit the stairs leading up to the main lobby, the deafening roar of automatic gunfire erupted.

Daniel took the lead, returning fire with his shotgun, the blasts echoing like cannons in the marble bank. Luca moved with terrifying, calculated precision, firing two shots, dropping a masked Bellini gunman attempting to flank us from the teller stations.

I kept my head down, clutching the gold bracelet in my pocket, my sprained ankle screaming in agony with every step, but the adrenaline fueled my legs.

We broke through the heavy glass revolving doors, shattering them outward into the rainy morning street.

Luca’s armored SUV was parked idling at the curb, its doors thrown open by another of Daniel’s men.

“Get in!” Luca roared, shoving me into the backseat and diving in right behind me.

Daniel took the wheel, slamming his foot on the gas. The heavy SUV tore away from the curb just as a barrage of bullets rained down on the reinforced windows, sparking harmlessly off the bulletproof glass.

We sped away down the slick city streets, leaving the chaos behind.

I collapsed back into the leather seats, gasping for clean air, my chest heaving.

“We got it,” I choked out, pulling the heavy gold charm bracelet from my pocket and holding it up for Luca to see. “We got the proof.”

Luca looked at the bracelet, a triumphant, dangerous smile crossing his bruised face.

But as his eyes shifted past me to look out the rear window, his smile vanished instantly, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated horror.

“Daniel,” Luca whispered, pointing at the skyline behind us. “Turn on the radio. Now.”

Daniel clicked the scanner on.

The police dispatch channel crackled to life, the frantic voice of an operator filling the quiet SUV.

“All units, be advised. Multiple reports of a massive explosion and structural fire in the northern pine woods. Coordinates Omega-3. Local fire crews are requesting tactical support. Callers report heavy automatic gunfire prior to the explosion.”

My heart stopped completely.

Omega-3.