THROW THAT OLD POT AWAY, YOU IGNORANT LITTLE MAID! NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID FAMILY TRADITIONS!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD HOUSEKEEPER IN FRONT OF FIFTY DINNER GUEST

The gunshot was deafening, echoing off the stone walls of the mansion and tearing through the heavy rain.

Vincenzo staggered backward, dropping the red pot and the microfiche film. He clutched his shoulder, blood instantly blooming across his expensive tweed coat. His suppressed pistol clattered onto the patio stones.

For a split second, time completely froze.

The guards were too stunned to fire. They stared at my mother, the quiet, unassuming hospital laundry worker, who was standing with her feet planted firmly apart, holding the massive revolver with both hands. The barrel was smoking.

“Nobody moves!” my mother screamed, her voice tearing through the storm with a terrifying, primal ferocity. She aimed the gun directly at Vincenzo’s head as he collapsed to his knees. “I will kill him! I swear to God, I will blow his head off!”

“Hold your fire!” Vincenzo gasped in pain, holding up his bloody hand to his guards. “Don’t shoot!”

Luca didn’t waste a millisecond.

Using the distraction, he swept his leg out, sweeping the guard nearest him off his feet. Before the man hit the ground, Luca snatched the guard’s assault rifle, rolled over his shoulder, and came up firing.

Not at the men—but at the massive emergency floodlight above the patio.

CRASH.

The patio plunged into absolute darkness.

Chaos erupted. Guards shouted in confusion.

“Get down!” Luca roared, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me behind a heavy stone planter.

Michael had reacted just as fast, tackling my mother and Julian behind a marble pillar just as the guards blindly opened fire. Bullets chipped the stone around us, sending sharp fragments flying through the air.

“Mike! The flashbangs in my study!” Luca yelled over the gunfire.

“On it!”

In the pitch black, Michael scrambled backward through the shattered patio doors into the mansion.

“We have to get the film!” I whispered to Luca, my heart hammering against my ribs. “If Vincenzo gets away with it, he wins!”

“I don’t care about the money, Emily, I care about keeping you alive!” Luca pushed me lower to the ground.

“It’s not just the money,” I said, gripping his lapels. “It’s your father’s legacy! He gave up everything to protect you and Michael from this life! If Vincenzo takes the empire back, it was all for nothing!”

Luca stared at me in the dark. He could barely see my face, but he felt the conviction in my hands.

“Stay here,” he breathed.

He popped up from behind the planter, firing two controlled bursts from the stolen rifle to keep the guards pinned down behind the hedges.

Suddenly, a blinding white light and an ear-splitting BOOM erupted from the center of the patio.

Michael had thrown a tactical flashbang out the window.

The brilliant flash illuminated the patio like daylight for a fraction of a second.

In that flash, I saw Vanessa crawling across the wet stones, her hand reaching out for the roll of microfiche film.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I dove out from behind the planter, sliding across the slick patio. I slammed into Vanessa just as her fingers brushed the plastic wrap.

We rolled across the hard stone, scratching and fighting. She was vicious, clawing at my face with her sharp nails, but I had spent my entire life scrubbing floors and carrying laundry bags. I was stronger.

I pinned her arm down and grabbed a handful of her wet hair, slamming her head back against the stone.

She cried out and went limp.

I snatched the roll of film from the ground and scrambled back toward the planter.

As my vision cleared from the flashbang, I saw Luca standing over Vincenzo. Luca had a pistol pressed directly between his uncle’s eyes.

The remaining guards, blinking through the spots in their vision, saw their boss defeated. They slowly lowered their weapons.

“It’s over, Vincenzo,” Luca said, his voice cold and deadly.

Vincenzo groaned, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at Luca, a bitter smile twisting his face.

“You think you’ve won?” Vincenzo wheezed. “You think keeping that film saves you? The Five Families know I’m here. They know your father was weak. If you kill me, they will burn this mansion to the ground with everyone inside it.”

Luca didn’t flinch. “Let them try.”

Suddenly, the wail of police sirens cut through the storm. Not just one or two, but dozens. The flashing red and blue lights began to reflect off the heavy iron gates at the front of the estate.

Vincenzo laughed painfully. “The police. Perfect. You can’t shoot me now, Luca. And when I get out on bail, I’ll finish what I started.”

But it wasn’t just the police.

Walking through the shattered patio doors, flanked by two massive FBI agents, was Carlo Vitale.

The Italian businessman from the dinner party.

Vanessa, groggy and bleeding from her lip, sat up and pointed at Carlo. “Arrest him! He’s trying to steal my family’s property!”

Carlo looked at her with utter disgust. He reached into his tailored suit and pulled out a gold badge, letting it hang from his neck.

“I am Inspector Carlo Vitale, with Interpol’s Organized Crime Division,” Carlo said perfectly in English. “And I’m not here to buy a restaurant, Miss Bellini. I’m here to arrest you and your uncle for international fraud, extortion, and the attempted murder of Sarah Carter.”

Vanessa’s jaw dropped.

“You… you’re a cop?” she whispered.

“Your father has been under surveillance in Florence for six months,” Carlo explained, gesturing for the FBI agents to cuff Vanessa and Vincenzo. “We knew he was sending you back to Chicago to steal the Moretti empire. We just needed proof of the financial accounts.”

Carlo turned to me. He held out his hand.

“I believe you have something that belongs in an evidence locker, Miss Carter.”

I looked at the small roll of plastic-wrapped film in my hand.

I looked at Luca. He gave me a small, approving nod.

I handed the film to Carlo.

“Thank you,” Carlo said gently. “Your mother is a very brave woman. And you are a terrible liar when you pretend not to speak Italian.”

He smiled softly, then turned to supervise the arrests.

As the police swarmed the patio, securing the guards and dragging a screaming Vanessa away, Luca dropped his weapon and walked over to me.

He didn’t say a word. He just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against his chest. I buried my face in his wet shirt, shaking uncontrollably as the adrenaline finally crashed.

“It’s over,” he murmured into my hair. “You’re safe.”

I pulled back just enough to look at him. “What happens now?”

Before he could answer, Michael walked over, supporting my mother. She looked exhausted, her face pale, but her eyes were clear.

“Now,” my mother said, her voice surprisingly steady, “we go home. But not to the apartment.”

Luca frowned. “Where, Sarah?”

My mother looked at Michael, then at Luca.

“There is one last secret your father left behind,” she said. “And it’s inside a safety deposit box at the First National Bank downtown. Julian has the key.”