THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME STRUGGLE TO REMOVE HIS DAUGHTER’S PLACE SETTING WITH ONE BANDAGED HAND—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE HURT IT IN THE GUEST ROOM,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHAT HAPPENED. I had almost reached the kitchen when the little porcelain plate slipped from my injured hand.

Luca stared at the empty vial in my hand.

The glass caught the soft light of the bedside lamp.

For the first time since this nightmare began, genuine fear cracked through his composed exterior.

Whoever had planned this didn't just want to remove Ella; they were willing to drug an eleven-year-old girl to keep her quiet.

“Lock the door,” Luca ordered, his voice harsh.

He turned and walked out.

I immediately pushed the heavy wooden door shut and turned the deadbolt. The click echoed loudly in the empty room.

Ella sat perfectly still on the bed. She had pulled the heavy wool coat tighter around herself, burying her chin in the collar.

“Grace?” she whispered.

I walked over and sat beside her. “Yes, sweetie?”

“Why did Daddy sign the paper?”

I swallowed hard. I wasn't a mother, but I knew the damage a lie could do to a child’s heart.

“He didn't,” I said firmly. “Someone tricked him.”

Down the hall, the muffled sounds of the jazz music stopped abruptly.

The heavy oak doors of the dining room had been slammed open.

Even through the walls, I could hear the sudden, terrifying silence that fell over the twenty-eight guests.

Then, Luca’s voice boomed.

“Carlo.”

I couldn't hear the response, but I could hear the scraping of chairs as people stood up.

In the bedroom, I looked at the guardianship document still resting on the mattress where Ella had dropped it.

I picked it up, studying the signature carefully.

It looked flawless. Every loop, every sharp angle of Luca’s handwriting was perfect.

How could someone forge it so well?

Suddenly, Ella reached into her pocket again.

“Grandma gave me this, too,” she murmured.

She held out her small hand.

Resting in her palm was a heavy gold pocket watch.

I recognized it. It was Luca’s. He wore it every day. He had lost it three weeks ago and had turned the house upside down looking for it.

“Why did your grandma give you this?” I asked gently.

“She said it was a goodbye present from Daddy. She said it proved he loved me, even if he didn't want me.”

I took the watch. It was beautiful, engraved with the Moretti family crest.

I pressed the small button on the side. The gold cover popped open.

Inside the cover, tucked behind the glass face, was a tiny folded slip of paper.

Frowning, I pulled it out and unfolded it.

It was a receipt from a private notary public, dated exactly three weeks ago. The same week Luca had lost the watch.

The receipt was for the notarization of a "Trust Fund Transfer."

Suddenly, the pieces slammed into place.

I looked at the forged signature on the guardianship paper.

It wasn't a forgery.

It was a transfer.

Vanessa hadn't forged his signature. She had placed the guardianship document underneath a legitimate trust fund paper, using carbon paper or a pressure-transfer pad.

Three weeks ago, Luca thought he was signing papers to set up a trust fund for his daughter. Instead, his own mother and his fiancée had tricked him into signing away his parental rights.

The watch had been stolen so his mother could use it as a bribe for the dirty notary.

“Oh, my god,” I breathed.

Outside the bedroom, a heavy thud echoed through the floorboards.

Someone had been thrown against a wall.

“You sold her!” Luca’s voice roared through the house, completely untethered. “You sold my daughter to the Bellinis!”

“It was for the peace!” Carlo’s voice shouted back, strained and panicked. “Luca, listen to me! Your mother knew! Vanessa’s father demanded collateral! They wouldn't agree to the merger unless they held the heir! If we didn't give them the girl, there would be a bloodbath!”

“She is an eleven-year-old child!”

“She’s a Moretti!” Carlo screamed. “She’s a target! Vanessa was going to put her in a Swiss boarding school under a fake name! She would have been safe!”

I stared at the closed door.

Vanessa genuinely believed she was doing the right thing. In the twisted logic of the syndicate, taking Ella away and erasing her identity was the only way to keep her alive.

But they hadn't asked Luca. They had stolen his child in the name of protection.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the foyer.

Glass shattered.

I jumped, grabbing Ella and pulling her behind me.

Heavy, rushed footsteps sprinted down the hallway toward the locked bedroom door.

Someone grabbed the doorknob and rattled it violently.

“Grace!” a woman’s voice screamed from the other side.

It was Mrs. Carter.

“Grace, open the door! Please!”

I hesitated, looking at Ella.

“Don't open it,” Ella whispered, terrified.

The doorknob rattled again, harder this time.