THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITHOUT SAYING A WORD—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE LOST HER VOICE IN THE MUSIC ROOM,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY I COULDN’T SPEAK.

The flashlight nearly slipped from my hand.

I stared at the photograph, unable to process what I was looking at.

My mother. And Luca’s father. Holding a baby.

I flipped the photograph over.

Written on the back, in Luca’s father’s handwriting, was: Our beautiful Emily. October 12th.

My birthday.

A wave of dizzying nausea hit me.

I wasn’t just the maid’s daughter.

I was Luca’s half-sister.

Suddenly, the basement lights flicked on, blinding me.

I dropped the photograph and spun around.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Daniel.

He didn’t have his gun drawn, but his face was an unreadable mask.

“You weren’t supposed to find that yet,” Daniel said quietly.

I backed away, hitting the trunk. “You knew? You knew I was his daughter?”

Daniel sighed, walking slowly into the room.

“Sarah isn’t my adoptive mother, Emily,” Daniel said gently. “She’s your biological mother. Luca’s father had an affair with her. When Luca’s mother found out, she didn’t fire Sarah. She protected her.”

I covered my mouth, tears spilling over my fingers.

“But why keep it a secret?” I sobbed. “Why let me grow up poor? Why let me work here as a maid?”

“Because of the Bellinis,” a deep voice said from the stairs.

I looked up.

Luca was walking down the steps. He looked at the open trunk, then at me.

“If the Bellinis knew my father had an illegitimate daughter, they would have used you as leverage,” Luca said softly. “Sarah begged my mother to wipe your existence from the family records. It was the only way to keep you alive.”

Luca walked over and gently picked up the dropped photograph.

He looked at it, a sad, knowing smile on his face.

“I figured it out tonight, Emily,” Luca said, turning to me. “When I read the ledger. I saw the dates. I saw how much my mother loved you in secret.”

He stepped forward and reached out, pulling me into a fierce, protective hug.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t a struggling single mother. I wasn’t a terrified maid serving coffee with a bruised throat.

I was a Moretti.

“No more secrets,” Luca whispered against my hair. “You’re my sister. Daniel is our brother. And Leo is my nephew.”

I cried into his shoulder, finally letting go of twenty-eight years of fear and struggle.

“Tomorrow, we rewrite the will,” Luca said firmly, stepping back and wiping a tear from my cheek. “You’ll never have to serve another cup of coffee as long as you live. You own half of everything.”

I looked at Luca, then at Daniel.

We were a broken, battered family. But we were finally together.

I smiled, my injured throat finally feeling like it was healing.