THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER

I did exactly what he said.

I took Leo’s small, trembling hand and led him up the back staircase to the master suite. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind us, and I turned the deadbolt, my heart hammering against my bruised ribs.

Leo sat on the edge of Luca’s massive bed, his legs swinging nervously. “Is Uncle Luca going to yell at her?”

“Your uncle doesn’t yell,” I said softly, sitting beside him despite the pain radiating through my side. “But he’s going to fix this.”

Downstairs, the house was entirely silent. Too silent.

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty.

I couldn't stand the waiting. I walked to the bedroom window, which overlooked the sweeping front driveway. The guests were leaving. Valets were rushing to bring cars around, but there was no laughter, no fond farewells. The engagement dinner was being abruptly evacuated.

Then, I saw her.

Vanessa stepped out onto the front portico, the chilly Chicago wind whipping her red silk gown around her ankles. She wasn't holding Luca’s arm. She was storming toward her own Mercedes, gripping her phone to her ear.

Even from the second floor, I could see the furious, panicked expression on her face.

She got into her car, slammed the door, and the tires squealed as she sped down the driveway.

She was gone.

A soft knock at the bedroom door made me jump.

“Kate. It’s me.”

I hurried over and unlocked the door. Luca stood in the hallway. The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, and the formal jacket was gone. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were burning with a sharp, calculating intensity.

He stepped inside and crouched down in front of Leo.

“Buddy, I need you to be brave for me,” Luca said gently. “Vanessa isn’t coming back tonight. And she’s never going to threaten you again.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Is she gone forever?”

“I’m handling it,” Luca promised. He kissed the boy’s forehead. “Go wash your face. You can sleep in my room tonight.”

As Leo ran off to the master bathroom, Luca stood up and turned to me.

“Did you cancel the wedding?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“No.”

I blinked, stunned. “But… after what she did to you? To Leo? To Dorothy?”

Luca walked over to his dresser and pulled out a heavy steel lockbox. “Canceling the wedding gives her family time to hide. It gives them time to destroy evidence. In my world, Kate, you don't cut off a snake’s head until you know exactly where its nest is.”

He opened the lockbox and tossed the crumpled medical receipt onto the glass dresser top.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Vanessa told me two days ago that she went to her doctor. She told me she was pregnant.”

The room spun. I grabbed the edge of a chair to steady myself. “She’s… pregnant?”

“That’s what she claimed,” Luca said, his voice turning to ice. “It’s the reason she pushed me to move the wedding up by three months. It’s the reason she’s been trying to clear out my old life so quickly. She thought the baby was her absolute insurance policy.”

He pointed to the receipt.

“But I just called the head of that private clinic. I own the building he operates in. He owes me.” Luca’s jaw locked. “Vanessa isn’t pregnant, Kate. She never was.”

My mind raced. “Then why the receipt?”

“It’s a receipt for a DNA test,” Luca said quietly.

I stared at him, confused. “A DNA test? But if she’s not pregnant…”

“Not for a baby.” Luca reached into the lockbox and pulled out a faded, weathered photograph. He handed it to me. “For this.”

I looked down at the photo.

It was an old Polaroid, taken at least twenty years ago. It showed a young Dorothy Miller—the woman who had practically raised Luca—standing in front of a rundown apartment building.

But she wasn't alone.

She was holding the hand of a little girl.

A little girl with dark hair, a familiar smile, and a distinct birthmark on her left wrist.

I dropped the photograph.

My hands started to shake violently.

Because the little girl in the photograph wasn't a stranger.