The night Chicago’s most feared mafia boss walked into my restaurant, I was sitting beside his elderly mother, holding her hand while she struggled to tell me something she couldn't put into words. When he saw us together, he stopped so suddenly that both his bodyguards nearly walked into him. And as he approached our table, I couldn't shake the terrifying feeling that I'd just gotten myself involved in something far bigger than helping a lonely old woman.

"Don't do it, Grace," Marcus whispered, his finger tightening on the trigger. "If you open that door, he'll kill us all."

"Grace!" Vincent called again, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "I know you have the necklace. And I know you found the account number in the rosary. Bring them out, and the old woman lives. I'll even let the mute child survive."

I looked down at Mia. She was shaking like a leaf, clutching my shirt.

If I stayed hidden, Teresa would die. If I opened the door, we might all die.

I looked at the amber necklace in my hand, then at the scrap of paper with the account number.

I made my choice.

"Marcus," I whispered, pulling the heavy wool coat off the chair. "Help me."

I quickly slipped the scrap of paper with the Cayman account number into the lining of the coat pocket, pushing it deep into a tear in the fabric. Then, I clasped the amber necklace back around my neck.

"Move the sofa," I ordered.

"Are you out of your mind?" Marcus hissed.

"Move it," I said, my voice suddenly finding a core of steel I didn't know I possessed. "When the door opens, you take Mia and run for the secret staircase behind the bookshelves. I'll distract him."

Marcus looked at me, a deep respect flooding his eyes. He nodded, holstering his weapon so he could carry Mia.

He pushed the heavy leather sofa away from the door.

I took a deep breath, grabbed the brass handle, and pulled the oak door open.

Vincent stood in the hallway, leaning on his silver cane. His pristine camel-hair coat was speckled with blood. Behind him, two massive enforcers held Teresa by the arms.

But it was the sight on the floor that made my heart stop.

Nicholas was on his knees, his hands zip-tied behind his back, blood pouring from a vicious gash on his forehead. He had fought through four men, but they had overwhelmed him when they threatened his mother.

Nicholas looked up at me. His dark eyes were filled with absolute, devastating agony.

"Grace, no," Nicholas groaned, struggling against his restraints. "Run."

"Ah, the brave little waitress," Vincent smiled, stepping into the library.

He didn't even look at Marcus, who was backing away toward the bookshelves with Mia in his arms. Vincent only had eyes for me, and the amber resting against my collarbone.

"Give it to me," Vincent demanded, holding out his hand.

I didn't move. "Let Teresa go first."

Vincent chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "You don't negotiate with me, Arthur's girl. You obey."

He raised his cane and struck Nicholas viciously across the face. Nicholas grunted, falling sideways onto the marble floor.

"Stop!" I screamed, stepping forward.

I reached behind my neck, unclasped the necklace, and held it out.

Vincent's eyes burned with greedy triumph. He snatched the amber from my hand, holding it up to the hallway lights. He laughed, a victorious, ugly sound.

"Twenty-two years," Vincent breathed. "Twenty-two years I searched for this."

"You have the ledger," I said, my voice shaking. "Let them go."

Vincent lowered the necklace. He looked at me, his smile vanishing, replaced by a look of pure, psychopathic malice.

"You really are as stupid as your grandfather," Vincent sneered.

He raised his hand, signaling his men.

"Kill them all," Vincent ordered. "Leave no witnesses."

The enforcers raised their weapons, aiming them at me, Teresa, and Nicholas.

But before a single trigger could be pulled, a massive explosion rocked the west wing of the estate.

The blast shattered the stained-glass windows at the end of the hallway, raining colorful shards across the marble floor. The concussion knocked Vincent off his feet, sending the amber necklace skittering across the floor.

The two enforcers stumbled, disoriented by the shockwave.

Nicholas didn't hesitate. He swung his legs around, sweeping the feet out from under the closest guard. He twisted his body, using his zip-tied hands to grab the guard's weapon, and fired two precise shots.

The guards fell.

Vincent scrambled backward, his silver cane forgotten, panic finally breaking through his arrogant facade. He lunged for the amber necklace lying on the floor.

But a small foot stepped on the necklace before he could reach it.

It was Mia.

The six-year-old girl stood perfectly still amidst the chaos and broken glass. She looked down at Vincent, her dark eyes completely fearless.

And then, for the first time in two years, Mia opened her mouth and spoke.

"You don't belong in our house anymore," Mia said, her voice clear and unbroken.

Vincent stared at the child in absolute horror.

Before he could react, the front doors of the mansion were kicked open.

Dozens of armed men in tactical gear flooded the grand staircase. But they weren't police. And they weren't Vincent's men.

They wore tactical vests bearing the insignia of the Chicago Syndicate's High Commission.

The ruling families.

The men swarmed the hallway, kicking Vincent's remaining guards to the ground and pulling Vincent to his feet.

A tall, older man with a grey beard walked up the stairs. The head of the Commission.

He looked at Vincent with utter disgust.

"We received the encrypted email, Nicholas," the older man said, completely ignoring Vincent's panicked protests. "The account records matching the missing pension funds. We traced them directly to Vincent's offshore accounts."

Vincent froze. "What email? That's impossible! The ledger is in the amber!"

Nicholas slowly pushed himself up from the floor, his face bloodied but triumphant.

"The ledger in the amber is a decoy, Uncle," Nicholas smiled, a dark, lethal expression. "My father was smarter than that. He hid the real account numbers in my mother's rosary. I found it three days ago when I moved her into the estate."

Reversal.

Nicholas had known about the rosary all along. He had let Vincent believe the necklace was the only piece of the puzzle, drawing him into the estate to trap him in front of the Commission.