THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SWITCH OFF THE MICROPHONE WHILE HIS TEN-YEAR-OLD SON STOOD CRYING IN FRONT OF THIRTY DINNER GUESTS—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID

The deafening blast of the shotgun echoed through the grand foyer, ringing in my ears like a physical blow.

I hit the marble floor hard, covering my head with my arms as hot blood and plaster rained down around me.

A heavy weight collapsed beside me.

I opened my eyes, gasping for breath.

Marcus Bellini lay on his back on the shattered marble. His chest was completely ruined. The silver-headed cane he had leaned on so proudly was snapped in half beneath him. His cold, calculating eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the crystal chandelier hanging above us.

He was dead.

The enforcer who had been standing behind me dropped his weapon, his hands flying into the air in terror.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" the man screamed, backing away toward the front door.

Luca stood on the second-floor balcony, his breathing ragged, the shotgun smoking in his good hand. He didn't fire again. He simply stared at the enforcer with eyes so dark and hollow they looked like graves.

"Get out of my house," Luca rasped.

The man didn't hesitate. He turned and sprinted out through the broken front doors into the rainy night, leaving his dead boss behind.

Silence rushed back into the mansion, heavy and suffocating.

"Daddy!"

Daniel dropped the silver picture frame and ran down the grand staircase as fast as his little legs could carry him.

He didn't look at Bellini's body. He ran straight to me, throwing his arms around my neck as I pushed myself up from the floor.

"Miss Emma! You're bleeding!" he cried, his small hands touching the gash on my forehead.

"I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm okay," I choked out, hugging him so tightly I thought my ribs would crack.

Footsteps sounded heavily on the stairs.

Luca descended slowly, leaning heavily against the banister. He had lost too much blood. His face was ash-white, and his legs were shaking.

When he reached the bottom, he dropped the shotgun. It clattered loudly against the floor.

He sank to his knees beside us.

He reached out with his uninjured arm and pulled both Daniel and me into his chest.

He smelled of gunpowder, copper, and expensive cologne. I could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a desperate, exhausted rhythm.

"Are you hurt?" Luca asked me, his voice barely a whisper against my hair.

"No," I lied, tears finally spilling over my cheeks. "Just a cut."

Luca pulled back slightly, looking at my face. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping away the blood dripping near my eye.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I knew he wasn't just apologizing for the cut on my head.

I looked at him, the truth of the last hour sitting heavily between us.

"Your brother," I said, my voice trembling. "He was the one who hit my mother."

Luca closed his eyes. The pain in his expression had nothing to do with the bullet in his shoulder.

"Yes."

"And you covered it up."

"Yes."

I pulled away from him, keeping Daniel tucked against my side. "Why? Why did you hire me, if you knew your family destroyed mine?"

Luca looked at the floor, his broad shoulders slumping. He looked suddenly older, stripped of all the power and terror that usually surrounded him.

"Because I didn't know it was Marco until a year ago," Luca said quietly.

I froze. "What?"

"When the accident happened four years ago, the police told me it was an unidentified drunk driver," Luca explained, his voice thick with regret. "It wasn't until Caroline died, and I started going through her private files, that I found the photograph. The one Daniel showed Bellini."

Luca looked up at me, his dark eyes pleading for me to understand.

"Caroline had hired a private investigator before she got sick. She suspected Marco was stealing from the syndicate. Instead, she found out Marco was working with Bellini... and that Bellini had ordered Marco to run your mother's car off the road."

"Why my mother?" I asked, completely bewildered. "We were nobodies. We didn't have money. We had nothing to do with the mafia."

Luca swallowed hard. "Because your mother wasn't just a random driver, Emma. Your mother was the head nurse on the oncology ward at St. Jude’s Hospital. The same ward where Caroline was being treated."

The world stopped spinning.

Everything clicked into horrifying place.

"My mother..." I whispered, the realization hitting me like a freight train. "My mother knew they were poisoning Caroline."

Luca nodded slowly. "Your mother found the mismatched IV bags. She was going to blow the whistle. Bellini found out, and he had Marco silence her before she could talk to the authorities. They made it look like a random hit-and-run."

Tears streamed down my face. My mother had suffered for years, lost her career, lost her mobility, because she had tried to save a dying woman.

"When I found out the truth last year," Luca continued, his voice breaking. "I exiled Marco. I banished my own brother from the country. And then... I looked for you. I couldn't undo what my family had done to yours. But I could make sure you never went hungry again. I hired you to protect you."

I stared at him. The man who had paid for my mother's groceries. The man who had made sure my wages were always double what they should have been.

He hadn't been buying my silence. He had been trying to pay a debt he couldn't ever truly repay.

Before I could speak, the wail of police sirens pierced the night air.

Red and blue lights flashed through the broken front windows, illuminating the blood-soaked foyer.

Dozens of armed officers swarmed the front lawn. Margaret had kept her promise. The real police—the federal tactical units—had arrived.

Marcus, Luca's head of security, ran out from the kitchen hallway.

"Boss! The Feds are here. They breached the gates. We have to get you out the back."

Luca shook his head.

"No running, Marcus. It's over."

Luca looked at Daniel, brushing the boy's dark hair back from his forehead. "You were so brave tonight, sweetheart. I am so proud of you."

"Are you going away, Daddy?" Daniel asked, his eyes filling with tears.

Luca kissed his son's forehead. "Just for a little while, buddy. Just to answer some questions. Grandma Margaret is going to come stay with you."

Luca slowly pushed himself up to his feet, grimacing in pain.

He looked down at me.

"Emma."

I stood up, holding Daniel's hand.

"I know I have no right to ask you for anything," Luca said softly, the flashing police lights casting shadows across his face. "But until I get back... please don't leave him."

I looked at the little boy holding my hand.

Then I looked at Luca.