THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER

The silence in the study was absolute.

Luca didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t slam his fist against the mahogany desk. He just stared at me, his dark eyes entirely hollowed out by what I had just said.

For a man who controlled half the shipping unions in Chicago, true anger rarely looked like an explosion. It looked exactly like this—a terrifying, freezing stillness.

“She told Dorothy I was embarrassed of her.” His voice was barely a whisper, yet it filled the entire room.

I clutched the ice pack against my ribs, trembling. “Yes, sir.”

He stood up.

He didn’t say another word to me. He walked past the desk, opened the study door, and stepped out into the hallway.

Panic surged through my chest. I forced myself up, ignoring the sharp stab in my side, and followed him into the corridor. The engagement dinner was still happening in the formal dining room. I could hear the clinking of crystal glasses and the low murmur of wealthy guests.

But Luca didn’t walk toward the dining room.

He walked toward the grand staircase.

I hurried behind him, keeping my distance. “Mr. Moretti, please,” I whispered. “If she knows I told you—”

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned. “Go home, Kate. You’re done for the night.”

“But the party—”

“The party is over.”

Before he could ascend the stairs, a tiny sound echoed from the shadowed alcove beneath the steps.

Luca froze.

We both looked toward the darkness behind the marble statues. A small, trembling figure was crouched against the wall.

It was Leo.

Luca’s six-year-old nephew. The boy had lived at the estate ever since his mother—Luca’s younger sister—passed away two years ago. He was usually asleep by eight.

Luca immediately softened. The terrifying mob boss vanished, replaced by a gentle uncle. He knelt on the hardwood floor.

“Leo? Buddy, what are you doing down here?”

Leo didn’t look at him. He was staring at the floor, his small hands clutching something tightly against his chest. His pajamas were rumpled, and his face was stained with fresh tears.

“I didn't mean to,” the boy whispered. “I was just trying to fix it.”

Luca stepped closer, his large hands gently cupping the boy’s shoulders. “Fix what, Leo?”

Leo slowly opened his small hands.

My breath caught.

Resting in the boy's palm was a heavy, antique silver rosary. The chain was snapped in half, the delicate silver beads spilling over his small fingers.

It was Luca’s mother’s rosary. The only thing she had left him. It was supposed to be kept in a locked display case in the library.

Luca’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained incredibly soft. “It’s okay, Leo. Accidents happen. How did it get out of the case?”

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. “Vanessa gave it to me.”

Luca went completely still. “Vanessa?”

“She came into my room before the party,” Leo cried, his voice trembling. “She said if I stayed upstairs and didn’t make any noise tonight, she would let me hold Nonna’s beads. But she told me not to tell you, Uncle Luca. She said… she said if I ruined her dinner, she would send me to boarding school.”

I pressed my hand over my mouth.

Luca stared at the broken beads.

Vanessa hadn't just insulted the woman who raised him. She was actively terrorizing the only blood relative he had left.

“She won't send you anywhere,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “This is your home. Not hers.”

Luca took the broken rosary from Leo’s hands. As he lifted it to the light, a small, folded piece of paper slipped from between the tangled silver links and dropped onto the floor.

I stepped forward and picked it up.

It was a crumpled receipt from a private medical clinic.

I looked at the date. It was from yesterday.

“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, handing it to him.

Luca unfolded the paper. I watched his eyes scan the printed words. Whatever was written on that slip of paper made the color drain completely from his face.

He didn't just look angry anymore. He looked like a man who had just realized he was walking into a trap.