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.**

The windshield exploded into a thousand pieces.

The two armed men flinched, raising their arms to protect their faces.

That one second of distraction was all Luca needed.

He lunged forward, grabbing Vanessa’s wrist and twisting it sharply. The gun clattered to the wooden deck. He shoved Vanessa aside and pulled his mother behind him, drawing his own weapon in a single, fluid motion.

He fired twice.

Both of Giuseppe’s armed men dropped to the pier before they could even aim.

Silence fell over the docks, save for the pouring rain and Vanessa’s hysterical sobbing.

Giuseppe sat in his wheelchair, unfazed by the dead men bleeding out beside his tires. He looked at the shattered glass on his lap, then slowly looked up at me.

"You've been a very troublesome maid, Rachel," Giuseppe said softly.

Luca aimed his gun directly at his father's chest. His hands were shaking violently.

"It was you," Luca breathed, tears mixing with the rain. "All this time. I fed you. I bathed you. I fought Carmine for you."

"Carmine is an idiot," Giuseppe scoffed. "He thought he was blackmailing me, but he was just doing my dirty work. Keeping your mother locked away so I didn't have to look at her."

"You locked Vanessa's child away, too."

"Leverage," Giuseppe said simply. "Vanessa was getting greedy. I needed to ensure she married you, so I could control your trust fund through her."

Giuseppe looked at his son. "Are you going to shoot your own father, Lu?"

Luca’s finger hovered over the trigger. He was breaking. The man he had loved and protected his entire life was a monster.

"Don't do it, Luca," his mother whispered, grabbing his arm. "He wants you to become him. Don't."

I stepped forward, the rain soaking through my clothes.

"You don't have to shoot him, Mr. Moretti," I said, pulling out my phone.

Giuseppe looked at me, narrowing his eyes.

I pressed the screen.

"I called Daniel five minutes ago," I said, my voice shaking but loud. "He heard everything. The federal prosecutor. The kidnapping. All of it."

The wail of police sirens suddenly pierced the night, growing louder from the city streets. Dozens of them.

Giuseppe's confident smile finally vanished.