THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME TRY TO BREAK THE LOCK ON HIS SEVENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD FATHER'S BEDROOM DOOR DURING HIS ENGAGEMENT PARTY—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “HE LOCKED HIMSELF IN BECAUSE HE'S CONFUSED,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE ONLY KEY WAS HANGING AROUND HER NECK.**

Nobody breathed.

Carmine stepped into the freezing bedroom, his polished shoes silent against the hardwood floor. He was sixty-two, impeccably dressed, and had always played the role of the loving, supportive uncle.

Now, his eyes held nothing but cold ambition.

"Uncle Carmine," Luca said, his voice deadly steady. "What is this?"

"This is me cleaning up Giuseppe’s messes," Carmine said, gesturing with the gun. "Your father was weak, Luca. Fifteen years ago, he was going to turn state’s evidence to protect your mother. I couldn’t let that happen to our family."

Giuseppe’s chest heaved. He tried to stand from his wheelchair, his left hand gripping the armrest, but his legs failed him.

"You took her," Giuseppe wept. "You told me she drowned."

"And you believed me, brother," Carmine sneered. "Because you were too cowardly to look for her."

Carmine turned his gun toward Vanessa. "I told you to get the old man's signature and get him into the facility before the wedding. You couldn't even do that right."

"He wouldn't sign!" Vanessa sobbed. "And then Russo showed up!"

"Russo is a dead man walking," Carmine said. He pulled a train ticket from his jacket pocket and tossed it onto the bed. "And so is your mother, Luca. That’s a one-way ticket to Chicago. Tonight. My men are transferring her out of the state right now."

Luca looked at the ticket, then at his uncle.

"Why didn't you just kill her fifteen years ago?"

"Because she knew where your grandfather buried the Cayman account ledgers," Carmine said. "It took her a decade to break. And now that I have them, she’s useless to me."

Carmine aimed the gun directly at Luca's head.

"I'm sorry, nephew. But you’re too smart to leave alive."

I didn’t think. I couldn't.

I was just a housemaid. I scrubbed floors. I folded linens. But Giuseppe Moretti had always thanked me. He had asked about my mother's health. He was a good man trapped in a broken body.

I still had the heavy brass candlestick in my hand.

As Carmine pulled the trigger, I swung with everything I had.

The brass struck Carmine’s wrist with a sickening crack. The gun fired, the bullet shattering the open window.

Carmine screamed, dropping the weapon.

Luca moved with terrifying speed. He tackled his uncle to the floor, pinning him by the throat.

"Rachel!" Luca roared. "Get my father out of here!"

I dropped the candlestick, grabbed the handles of Giuseppe's wheelchair, and shoved it toward the hallway.

Vanessa was already running for the stairs, terrified.

I pushed Giuseppe into the corridor just as Daniel, the security chief, rushed up the stairs with three armed men.

"Lock down the estate!" Luca shouted from inside the room. "Nobody leaves!"

Daniel pushed past me, securing Carmine.

I knelt in front of Giuseppe. The old man was trembling violently, his bare feet freezing. I pulled off my own sweater and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"You're safe, Mr. Moretti," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "You're safe."

He reached out with his good hand and gripped my wrist. His eyes were wide, desperate.

"Rachel..." he gasped.

"Don't try to speak, sir. Just breathe."

"No..." He pulled me closer, his voice urgent.

"The ticket... look at the ticket..."

I ran back into the bedroom and grabbed the train ticket Carmine had thrown on the bed.

I flipped it over.