THE MOMENT THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE CALLED ME “A WORTHLESS LITTLE MAID,” I PUT A BOWL OF CHICKEN SOUP IN FRONT OF HIM DURING HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—BECAUSE HIS MOTHER WAS EATING ALONE IN THE KITCHEN.

The small black detonator in Luca’s hand felt heavier than a loaded gun.

He wired the steel mill three years ago.

I stared at him, the sheer magnitude of his long game finally crashing over me. Luca Moretti hadn’t just been playing a reluctant mob boss; he had been meticulously laying the groundwork to eradicate the men who killed his sister, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike.

“You’re going to blow up the mill with Arthur inside,” I breathed, the reality of the violence sending a shiver down my spine.

“It’s the only way to end this without a prolonged war that bleeds into the streets,” Luca said coldly, securing the detonator in his tactical vest. “Arthur’s men are loyal to money. Once Arthur is gone, the Bellini syndicate fractures. The feds clean up the rest.”

“But if you’re inside the mill to make the trade…” I started, the panic rising in my throat as I realized the flaw in his plan.

“I won’t be inside when it blows,” Luca assured me, though his eyes avoided mine for a fraction of a second. “I have an extraction route. Now go, Emma. Get in the car with Marco.”

He turned away from me, reaching for the door handle of the armored SUV where Vanessa was restrained.

I didn’t move. My instincts, sharpened by a lifetime of surviving on my own, were screaming at me. Luca was lying. He didn’t have an extraction route. He was planning to sacrifice himself to ensure Arthur didn’t escape.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, planting my feet firmly on the shattered marble of the foyer.

Luca stopped. He turned back slowly, his jaw set in a hard line of frustration.

“Emma, I do not have time to argue with you,” Luca commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority. “This is a mafia war. You are a civilian. Get in the car.”

“If you go to that mill alone, you’re not coming back,” I challenged, staring directly into his dark, intimidating eyes. “You’re walking into a suicide mission to avenge Rosa. But what about your mother? What happens to Teresa if you die tonight?”

Luca flinched. The mention of his mother pierced his armor perfectly.

“I’m doing this for my mother,” Luca growled, stepping closer, his imposing height towering over me. “I am securing her future.”

“You’re abandoning her!” I yelled back, refusing to back down. “She already lost her daughter to Arthur Bellini! Now you’re going to make her lose her son, too?!”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Luca stared at me, his chest heaving under the heavy tactical vest. The rage in his eyes slowly melted into a profound, agonizing grief. He knew I was right.

“I don’t have a choice, Emma,” Luca whispered, the invincible mob boss suddenly sounding incredibly tired. “If I don’t kill Arthur tonight, the FBI deal falls apart. I go to prison, and Arthur hunts my mother down anyway. This is the only way.”

“It’s not,” I said, a desperate, reckless plan forming in my mind. “You need a distraction. You need someone to draw Arthur’s men away from the main floor of the mill so you can get out before you detonate the C4.”

“I have no men left to send,” Luca said grimly. “They were all arrested or scattered during the raid.”

“You have me,” I said quietly.

Luca’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. “Absolutely not. Are you insane?”

“I know how to drive a stick shift,” I said, pointing to the armored SUV. “I can drive the SUV to the back loading dock of the mill. Arthur’s men will think you’re in the car. They’ll swarm the back entrance. You go in through the front, make the trade, and slip out while they’re distracted by the vehicle.”

“If they swarm the car and realize I’m not in it, they will shoot you,” Luca stated bluntly, grabbing my arms. “I am not letting you die for my family.”

“The glass is bulletproof, Luca,” I argued, looking down at his strong hands gripping my arms. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, grounding me in the chaos. “I lock the doors, hit the horn to draw their fire, and wait for you to blow the building. It buys you exactly the window you need.”

Luca stared at me, his dark eyes searching my face for any sign of hesitation. He found none. I was terrified, but I wasn't backing down.

“Why are you doing this?” Luca asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You were just a housekeeper seven months ago.”

“Because you treated me like a human being, not a servant,” I answered honestly, tears pricking my eyes. “Because you defended me against Vanessa. And because… because I care about you, Luca.”

The confession hung in the air between us, raw and vulnerable.

Luca didn’t speak. He gently slid his hands from my arms up to my face, cupping my cheeks. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. It was a moment of profound, intimate surrender in the middle of a warzone.

“If we survive this,” Luca whispered, his breath warm against my skin, “you are never cleaning another room in your life. Understand?”

“Deal,” I smiled shakily through my tears.

He pulled back, his expression hardening back into the lethal focus of a syndicate boss.

“Let’s go end this,” Luca said.

We left Marco and Teresa with the town car, giving them strict instructions to head to the airstrip and wait.

I climbed into the driver’s seat of the armored SUV. It smelled of leather and Vanessa’s expensive perfume. Vanessa was gagged and bound in the back cargo area, glaring murderously at me through the rearview mirror.

Luca leaned into the open driver’s window, handing me a heavy, suppressed handgun.

“Keep it on the passenger seat,” Luca instructed. “Do not open the doors for anyone. When you hear the explosion, put the car in reverse and drive as fast as you can to the rendezvous point on 5th Street. I’ll meet you there.”

I took the gun, my hands trembling slightly. “Be careful.”

Luca nodded. “See you on the other side, Emma.”

He stepped back and disappeared into the shadows of the estate, heading toward a secondary vehicle he kept hidden for emergencies.

I put the heavy SUV in drive and tore out of the shattered front gates, heading south toward the industrial district.

The old Bellini steel mill loomed against the night sky like a decaying iron fortress. It was massive, rusted, and surrounded by a chain-link fence.

As I approached the perimeter, I killed the headlights, navigating entirely by the pale moonlight reflecting off the nearby Chicago River.

I saw them immediately.

Dozens of black sedans were parked near the front entrance of the mill. Men with assault rifles were patrolling the perimeter. Arthur had brought an army, just as Teresa had predicted.

I gripped the steering wheel, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my chest.

Draw them away, I repeated to myself.

I slammed my foot on the gas and tore down the narrow access road leading to the back loading docks of the mill.

The roar of the massive V8 engine shattered the silence.

I flipped the high-beams on, blinding two guards stationed near the back doors. They shouted in surprise, raising their rifles.

I didn't slow down. I slammed the heavy armored grill of the SUV directly into a stack of empty steel barrels, sending them crashing loudly against the corrugated metal wall of the mill.

The noise was deafening.

I slammed the car into park, locked all the doors, and laid on the horn.

A long, continuous, obnoxious blare echoed across the entire compound.

It worked instantly.

Shouts erupted from inside the mill. Flashlights and laser sights cut through the darkness as dozens of Arthur’s men abandoned the front entrance and swarmed toward the back loading dock, surrounding the SUV.

“He’s in the car! Surround it!” a voice roared over the chaos.

Assault rifles leveled at the windshield.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Sparks flew as bullets pinged harmlessly off the reinforced bulletproof glass. I ducked down beneath the dashboard, covering my ears, praying the armor held.

I had given Luca his window.

Inside the cavernous, dimly lit main floor of the steel mill, Arthur Bellini stood near a rusted smelting vat, flanked by his two most loyal captains. He heard the gunfire erupting at the back of the building.

“He tried to flank us,” Arthur sneered, pulling a heavy revolver from his coat. “The arrogant fool.”

“He’s not flanking you, Arthur.”

Arthur whipped around.

Standing on the catwalk thirty feet above the factory floor, illuminated by a single industrial work light, was Luca Moretti.

He didn’t have a rifle. He was completely unarmed, his hands resting casually on the metal railing.

“You brought an army to a negotiation, Arthur,” Luca’s voice echoed powerfully through the empty mill. “I told you to come alone.”

“I don’t negotiate with dead men,” Arthur spat, aiming his revolver up at the catwalk. “Where is my daughter, Luca?”

“She’s safe,” Luca replied calmly. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

Arthur laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Look around you, boy. My men have your car surrounded out back. You’re trapped up there. Hand over the journal, and I’ll make your death quick.”

Luca didn’t flinch. He reached into his tactical vest and pulled out the small, black remote detonator.

“I don’t have the journal, Arthur,” Luca smiled, a terrifying, victorious expression. “I gave it to the FBI an hour ago.”

Arthur’s face went bone-white. “You’re lying.”

“They’re freezing your accounts right now,” Luca said coldly. “The Commission in New York is already reading the wiretaps. You’re finished.”

Arthur roared in pure, unadulterated fury, firing his revolver wildly at the catwalk.

The bullets sparked against the metal railing, missing Luca by inches.

Luca didn’t shoot back. He just looked down at the man who had murdered his sister, the man who had terrorized his family for five long years.

“This is for Rosa,” Luca whispered.

He pressed the red button on the detonator.

Nothing happened.

No explosion. No fire. Just the deafening silence of the steel mill.

Arthur stopped firing, panting heavily. He looked around the silent factory floor, then looked back up at Luca, a cruel, mocking smile spreading across his face.

“Did you really think I didn’t know about the C4, Luca?” Arthur laughed triumphantly. “I own the contractor who wired this building for you three years ago. I had my men disarm the explosives yesterday.”