THE SISTER SHE NEVER WANTED TO BE

The swinging doors burst open, hitting the wall with a violent crack.

Marco, Luca’s head of security, stumbled into the dining room. Blood was pouring from a deep gash above his left eye, staining his crisp white shirt.

"Mr. Moretti!" Marco shouted, clutching his side.

Luca instantly let go of my hand and stood up, positioning himself between us and the doors. His hand moved smoothly to the small of his back, resting on the concealed weapon beneath his suit jacket.

"What happened?" Luca demanded.

"It’s an ambush," Marco gasped, leaning heavily against the dining table. "The Rossis... Julian didn't leave. He signaled his men when he walked out. They breached the kitchen. They’re taking the house."

My blood ran completely cold.

Julian Rossi hadn't just exposed Vanessa to clear his family's name. He had exposed her as a distraction. While Luca was focused on the betrayal inside his home, the Rossi family had surrounded it.

"How many?" Luca asked, his voice returning to absolute ice.

"At least twenty," Marco coughed. "They took out the perimeter guards. They're moving up from the basement now."

"Vanessa?"

"Dead," Marco said flatly. "They shot her in holding. Tied up a loose end. They’re coming for you next."

Luca didn't hesitate. He didn't panic. He operated with the terrifying efficiency of a man who had been bred for war.

He turned to me.

"Megan. Take Sophia. Go to the panic room behind the library."

"I'm not leaving you," Sophia cried, grabbing her father's hand.

"You have to, baby," Luca said, kneeling down and looking her dead in the eye. "I need you to be brave. I need you to go with Megan and lock the heavy steel door. Do not open it for anyone except me. Do you understand?"

Sophia nodded, tears streaming down her face.

Luca looked up at me. "Protect her."

"I will," I promised, grabbing Sophia's hand tightly.

"Marco, hold this chokepoint," Luca ordered, drawing his weapon. "Nobody gets through this dining room."

I pulled Sophia toward the grand hallway. The mansion, usually so quiet and pristine, was now echoing with the terrifying sounds of shouting and distant gunfire.

We sprinted across the marble foyer and burst into the massive, two-story library.

"Where is it?" I asked frantically, scanning the endless rows of bookshelves.

"Behind the fireplace," Sophia gasped.

We ran to the enormous stone fireplace at the back of the room. Sophia reached under the wooden mantle and pressed a hidden button. With a heavy, mechanical groan, the back of the fireplace slid open, revealing a dark, steel-reinforced room.

I pushed Sophia inside.

Before I could step in after her, a voice echoed from the library entrance.

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

I froze.

Standing in the doorway was a man holding an automatic rifle. He wore a black tactical vest over a suit. One of Rossi’s men.

He raised the rifle, aiming directly at my chest.

"Step away from the vault, sweetheart," he smiled.

My mind raced. If I stepped away, he would take Sophia. He would use her as a hostage to force Luca to surrender his empire.

I still had the ruined pearl necklace in my pocket. I still had my burned hand.

I didn't have a weapon.

But I was standing next to a heavy, brass fire poker resting by the hearth.

"I said move," the man barked, stepping further into the room.

I looked at Sophia in the dark panic room. Her eyes were wide with terror.

"Close the door, Sophia," I whispered.

"No!" she cried.

"Close it!" I screamed.

I grabbed the heavy brass poker and lunged directly at the gunman.

I didn't think about survival. I only thought about the little girl who had already lost her mother, and I refused to let her lose her life.

The man fired.

The bullet shattered a vase on the shelf right next to my head, raining ceramic shards over my shoulders.

Before he could adjust his aim, I swung the heavy brass poker with every ounce of strength I had in my body.

CRACK.

The heavy metal connected squarely with his jaw. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed onto the Persian rug like a sack of stones, his rifle clattering across the floor.

I dropped the poker, gasping for air, my whole body trembling violently.

"Miss Megan!" Sophia cried.

She hadn't closed the door. She was standing in the vault, holding her hands out to me.

I ran inside, slammed the heavy steel door shut, and threw the massive locking lever.

The heavy thud of the lock engaging plunged us into silence. The panic room was dimly lit by emergency lights, stocked with water and communication equipment.

I slumped against the cold steel door, sliding down to the floor. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn't feel my fingers.

Sophia knelt beside me and threw her arms around my neck.

"You saved me," she sobbed into my shoulder. "You saved me."

I wrapped my arms around her, rocking her gently. "You're safe, sweetie. You're safe."

We sat in the dark for what felt like hours. The thick steel walls muffled the sounds of the war raging in the mansion above us. Every distant vibration sent a fresh spike of adrenaline through my veins.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a heavy knock echoed on the outside of the door.

I instantly pushed Sophia behind me.

"Megan. It's me."

It was Luca.

I threw the locking lever and pushed the heavy door open.

Luca stood in the library. His suit was ruined, covered in plaster dust and blood. His knuckles were raw and split open.

But he was alive.

Sophia ran past me and threw herself into her father's arms. Luca caught her, burying his face in her hair, closing his eyes tightly.

He looked over her head, locking eyes with me.

"The Rossis are gone," Luca said softly, his voice raspy from smoke and shouting. "Julian is dead. His men are handled. The house is secure."

I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for three years. I leaned against the doorframe, suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion.

Luca stood up, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around Sophia. He walked over to me.

He looked at my face, pale and covered in dust, then looked past me at the unconscious gunman lying on the Persian rug.

Luca’s eyes widened slightly. He looked back at me.

"Did you do that?" he asked softly.

I nodded weakly. "I used the fire poker."

A look of profound, staggering awe crossed the mafia boss's face.

He reached out his free hand and gently touched my cheek. His thumb brushed away a streak of dirt, his touch surprisingly tender for a man with blood on his knuckles.

"You protected what is mine," Luca whispered, his voice vibrating with a fierce, possessive gratitude. "I will never, ever forget this, Megan."

Before I could process the intensity in his eyes, the library doors opened.

Marco walked in, holding a towel to his bleeding head.

"Boss," Marco said heavily. "The police are on their way. We need to clear the bodies before they arrive."

Luca didn't look away from me.

"Handle it," Luca ordered. "And Marco?"

"Yes, sir?"