THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH MY COLLAR BUTTONED TO MY CHIN—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE CAUGHT HER NECK ON A COAT HOOK,” BEFORE HE HAD EVEN ASKED WHY I WOULDN’T TURN MY HEAD.

The air in my lungs turned to ice.

Maya.

My sister was nineteen, studying at a local community college, living in the small apartment I paid for with this housekeeping job. She was my entire world since our parents passed.

I didn't stop to think. I didn't call for help. I turned and ran down the dark, concrete corridor toward the estate's massive underground garage.

The garage was dimly lit, smelling of motor oil and expensive leather. Rows of luxury cars sat in silence.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice trembling in the cavernous space.

"Over here, Sarah."

A figure stepped out from behind Luca's black SUV.

It was Anthony Marino.

He was wearing a dark suit, his tie loosened. He looked exhausted, his handsome face shadowed with stress, but his eyes were sharp and desperate.

"Where is she?" I demanded, rushing toward him. "Where is my sister?"

Anthony held up his hands in a placating gesture. "She's safe, Sarah. She's at her apartment studying. I just needed you down here, and I knew that was the only way you'd come without calling security."

I stopped, my heart pounding so hard my ribs ached. "You lied to me? You used my sister as bait?"

"I'm sorry," Anthony said, running a hand through his dark hair. "But you're the only one who knows what happened upstairs. I need you to keep your mouth shut."

He took a step toward me.

"I know Vanessa threatened you," he continued, his voice lowering to a frantic whisper. "She's crazy, Sarah. I’ve been trying to end it for months, but she won't let me go. If Luca finds out—"

"He already knows," I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Anthony froze. The color instantly drained from his face.

"What?" he choked out.

"I told him," I said, backing away from him. "He asked who grabbed my neck, and I told him everything I heard."

Anthony staggered backward, hitting the side of the SUV. He looked like a man who had just read his own death warrant. And in the mafia, sleeping with the boss's fiancée was exactly that.

"No," Anthony breathed, gripping the hood of the car. "No, no, no. He'll kill me. He'll slaughter my entire family."

"You should have thought of that eleven months ago," I said, anger momentarily overriding my fear.

Anthony looked at me, a desperate, wild glint entering his eyes.

"You don't understand," he said rapidly. "It wasn't just an affair. Vanessa didn't seduce me for fun. She was blackmailing me."

I frowned, taking another step back. "Blackmailing you?"

Anthony reached into his suit pocket with a shaking hand. He pulled out a faded Polaroid photograph and threw it on the concrete floor between us.

"Look at it," he demanded.

I hesitated, then slowly crouched down.

The photograph showed a man lying dead in an alleyway, a pool of blood around his head. Standing over the body, holding a gun, was Anthony.

But it wasn't the dead man that made my stomach drop.

It was the date stamp in the corner of the Polaroid.

August 14th.

Three years ago.

"That man," Anthony said, his voice cracking, "was Luca's older brother. Vincent."

The breath left my lungs. Vincent Moretti’s murder had nearly sparked a mob war. The killer was never found.

"You killed Luca's brother?" I gasped, staring at the photo in horror.

"It was an accident!" Anthony pleaded, dropping to his knees. "Vincent was drunk. He attacked me. We fought over the gun, and it went off. I panicked. I hid the body. I never told Luca."

He pointed a shaking finger at the photo.

"But Vanessa found out. She found that picture in my safe. She used it to force me into her bed. She used it to force me to feed her information about Luca's accounts."

Anthony looked up at me, tears streaming down his face.

"She’s bleeding the Moretti family dry, Sarah. She’s setting Luca up to take the fall for her embezzlement. And she’s going to use this picture to make me pull the trigger when the time comes."

Before I could fully process the terrifying truth of his words, the heavy metal door to the garage slammed open.

"Well, well," a melodic voice echoed off the concrete walls.

Vanessa stood in the doorway, still wearing her white robe, but the innocent facade was entirely gone.