THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME PICK UP A CRUMPLED BLUE ENVELOPE FROM BESIDE HIS EIGHT-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER AT HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “IT'S JUST AN OLD LETTER FROM HER DEAD MOTHER,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE LITTLE GIRL WAS CRYING.

The chaos was instantaneous.

One of Anthony's men fired a warning shot into the ceiling, showering plaster over the Persian rug, but Luca didn't even flinch. He hit the gunman like a freight train, driving him backward through the shattered study doors and into the hallway.

"Run, Helen!" Luca roared over the noise. "Get Emily out!"

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed Emily's hand, hoisted her into my arms despite the ache in my back, and sprinted toward the secret servant's staircase hidden behind the bookshelf.

"Stop them!" Vanessa shrieked.

I slammed the hidden panel shut just as a bullet splintered the wood where my head had been.

The narrow, dark staircase smelled of dust and old wax. Emily was sobbing against my neck, her small body trembling violently.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you," I gasped, hurrying down the steep steps.

We reached the ground floor, slipping into the massive, empty kitchen. The catering staff had already fled when the shooting started. The engagement cake sat untouched on the marble island.

I needed to get to the garage. Luca had a reinforced SUV that could withstand gunfire.

But as I reached for the handle of the kitchen door, I heard the heavy thud of boots walking slowly across the dining room floor.

They were sweeping the house.

I pulled Emily under the heavy oak preparation table, wrapping my arms around her to muffle her crying.

"Mrs. Carter," Emily whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Did Miss Vanessa hurt Mommy?"

My heart broke. I kissed her forehead. "Your mommy was an angel, sweetheart. And your daddy is going to protect us."

From the hallway, a voice called out. It wasn't one of Anthony's thugs.

It was Marco, Luca's head of security.

"Helen? Emily? Are you down here?"

Relief washed over me. Marco was fiercely loyal to Luca. He had been with the family since before Emily was born.

I scrambled out from under the table. "Marco! We're in the kitchen!"

Marco stepped through the swinging doors, his gun drawn. He looked around the empty room, then down at me and Emily.

"Thank God," Marco exhaled. "Come with me. I have a car running in the alley."

I picked Emily up and hurried toward him. "Where is Mr. Moretti? Did he get away from Anthony?"

Marco's face tightened. "Luca is pinned down upstairs. He ordered me to get Emily to the safehouse. Hand her to me, Helen."

He reached out his arms.

I took a step forward. But then, my eyes caught something.

On Marco's left wrist, partially hidden by his suit sleeve, was a silver watch. It was a very specific, expensive watch. A Patek Philippe.

I recognized it immediately, because I had seen it an hour ago.

It was the exact watch Anthony Bellini had been wearing upstairs.

I stopped.

"Helen?" Marco said, his voice dropping an octave. "We don't have time. Give me the girl."

"Mr. Bellini gave you that watch," I said, taking a slow step backward.

Marco looked down at his wrist. He didn't deny it. He just sighed.

"Luca pays well, Helen," Marco said quietly, raising his gun and pointing it directly at me. "But Anthony offered me a seat at the table. A maid shouldn't die for a mafia boss. Just give me the kid, and you can walk out the back door."

Emily screamed, burying her face in my shoulder.

"You betrayed him," I hissed. "You let Vanessa poison Katherine."

"It's business," Marco said coldly. He cocked the gun. "Last chance, Helen."

I looked around the kitchen. I had no weapon. No way out.

But I had worked in this house for eleven years. I knew every secret it held.

Right behind Marco was the massive, walk-in commercial freezer.

"Okay," I cried, pretending to surrender. "Okay, just don't hurt her!"

I took a step toward him. Then, with all the strength I had left in my fifty-eight-year-old body, I grabbed a heavy cast-iron skillet from the stove and swung it wildly at his head.

Marco ducked, the pan glancing off his shoulder, but it was enough to make him stumble backward.

He lost his footing on the slick tile and fell backward—right into the open walk-in freezer.

I lunged forward and slammed the heavy steel door shut, throwing the exterior deadbolt just as Marco's body hit the metal from the inside.

He pounded against the thick, soundproof door, but I couldn't hear a thing.

I leaned against the freezer, gasping for air.

"You did it, Mrs. Carter!" Emily cried.

But my victory was short-lived.

Because the kitchen doors swung open again.

Vanessa walked in, holding Luca's gun. The one he had dropped upstairs.