THE PHOTOGRAPH IN THE VELVET CLUTCH

Luca turned his head just a fraction. “What did you say?”

I stood up slowly, keeping myself positioned between Leo and Clara’s gun. I held the construction paper out toward Luca.

“The boy drew a map,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “He drew the back garden. And the service entrance near the kitchen.”

Daniel frowned, finally glancing at the paper. “Kids draw things. It doesn't mean anything.”

“He drew a man with a spider web tattoo on his neck standing at the kitchen door,” I countered, looking directly at Daniel. “I grew up in Little Village, Daniel. I know who has that tattoo. It’s Carlo’s enforcer, Silas.”

Clara’s face went pale. It was the first time she looked genuinely surprised.

Luca saw it too.

“You didn't know about the back door,” Luca said to Clara.

Clara swallowed hard, her gun wavering slightly. “Carlo told me to secure the deed and wait for him at the front.”

“He lied to you,” Michael said, finally stepping out from behind his mother. “He used you as a distraction, Aunt Clara. Just like Vanessa used me.”

Vanessa let out a hollow, bitter laugh from the floor. “My father doesn't share power. He doesn't honor deals. He sent you in here to keep Luca busy while his men breached the back.”

As if on cue, the lights in the dining room flickered.

Once. Twice.

Then, the massive crystal chandelier above the ruined deed plunged into total darkness.

The emergency backup lights lining the floorboards flicked on, casting eerie, upward shadows on everyone’s faces.

A woman screamed in the back of the room. Panic erupted.

“Quiet!” Luca roared over the noise.

The room fell silent, save for the terrified sobbing of a few guests.

“Daniel. Status,” Luca ordered in the dim light.

Daniel was rapidly tapping his earpiece. “Comms are jammed. The main power line was cut. We’re on the backup generator, but it only powers the ground floor and the security doors.”

“Are the kitchen doors secure?”

“They should be,” Daniel said, drawing his own weapon. “But if Silas is out there, they won't hold long.”

Clara suddenly lunged forward in the dark, grabbing my arm. She jammed the barrel of her gun hard into my ribs.

“Drop your weapons, or the maid dies!” Clara screamed, using me as a shield to back toward the conservatory doors.

I gasped as the metal dug into my side.

Leo started crying loudly, burying his face in my skirt.

Luca raised his gun, aiming directly at Clara’s head in the dim light. “Let her go, Clara.”

“Open the conservatory doors, Luca,” Clara demanded, her grip bruising my arm. “I’m leaving. And she’s coming with me until I’m safe.”

“You walk out those doors, and Carlo’s men will shoot you first,” Teresa said, her voice cutting through the dark with absolute authority. “You failed, Clara. You don't have the deed. You don't have the boy. To Carlo, you’re just a witness.”

Clara’s breathing grew ragged. The truth of Teresa’s words was sinking in.

Suddenly, a massive, deafening BOOM echoed through the floorboards.

The ground shook. Crystal glasses rattled and shattered off the dining table.

“They blew the kitchen door,” Daniel yelled.

Chaos erupted. Guests dove under the table. Michael grabbed his mother, pulling her behind the heavy mahogany buffet against the wall.

In the distraction, Clara’s grip on me loosened just a fraction.

It was all I needed.

I remembered my self-defense classes from the city. I dropped my weight entirely, twisting my torso sharply away from the gun.

Clara stumbled forward, off-balance.

I didn't run. I grabbed the heavy, solid brass wine bucket from the edge of the table and swung it upward with every ounce of strength I had.

It connected with Clara’s wrist with a sickening crunch.

Clara shrieked, dropping the gun. It clattered across the hardwood floor, sliding into the darkness.

Before she could recover, Luca crossed the room in three massive strides. He grabbed Clara by the collar of her blazer and slammed her hard against the wall.

“Tie her up,” Luca ordered Daniel.

He didn't wait to watch. He turned to me, his chest heaving. In the dim emergency lighting, his dark eyes were wide, scanning my face, my arms.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice thick with an emotion that sounded dangerously close to fear.

“I’m okay,” I breathed, rubbing my arm.

Luca looked down. Leo had his arms wrapped tightly around my leg, burying his face against me.

Luca knelt down, putting himself at eye level with the terrified boy. He didn't look like a mob boss in that moment. He looked like a protector.

“Leo,” Luca said softly. “I need you to be very brave for me right now. Can you do that?”

Leo sniffled, nodding slowly.

Luca looked up at me.

“Emily, you know the servant passages better than anyone in this house,” he said. “I need you to take my mother and the boy to the basement vault. Lock yourselves inside.”

“What about you?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.

“I have to hold the main hall,” Luca said, checking the magazine in his gun. “If they get past the foyer, we all die.”

“Luca, no,” Teresa said from the shadows. “There are too many of them.”

Luca stood up, his jaw set in a hard line. He looked at Vanessa, still cowering on the floor.

“Daniel,” Luca said. “Check Vanessa’s purse.”

Daniel grabbed the silver clutch from the floor and dumped the rest of its contents.

A velvet box fell out. It cracked open on the floor.