YOU CAN STAND TONIGHT, SARAH. THERE'S NO ROOM LEFT AT THE TABLE.” MY MAFIA HUSBAND LET HIS MISTRESS TAKE MY CHAIR IN FRONT OF TWENTY-FOUR RELATIVES—BUT HIS 83-YEAR-OLD GRANDMOTHER NOTICED SOMETHING ON THE WOMAN'S PHONE AND ORDERED EVERYONE TO STAY SEATED

“His grandson?” I repeated, the photograph trembling in my hand. I looked at Vincent. “Leo is Falcone’s grandson?”

Vincent gently set Leo down and handed him a tablet to watch cartoons in the living room. Once the boy was out of earshot, he turned to me.

“Leo’s mother was Isabella Falcone,” Vincent admitted quietly. “We were young. We thought we could bridge the gap between the families. But when she died giving birth to Leo, the Falcones blamed me. They said I broke her heart and killed her.”

“If Don Falcone is dead,” Nonna interrupted, her voice sharp, “who left the photo?”

“His eldest son,” Vincent said grimly. “Dante Falcone. He survived the warehouse fire. He took over the family in secret, operating out of New York. He’s been hunting for Leo for six years.”

I looked at the burned rosary. Dante had been in our house last night. During the chaos with Carmine, he had slipped in and left his calling card.

“He’s coming for the boy,” Nonna said, her voice dropping to a fearful whisper. “Vincent, we don’t have the men to fight the Falcones right now. Carmine took half our loyal soldiers when he fled.”

“I’m not giving up my son,” Vincent growled, pacing the floor. “I’ll burn Chicago to the ground first.”

The intercom on the wall suddenly buzzed. A harsh, electric sound that made all three of us jump.

Vincent walked over and pressed the button. “Yeah?”

“Boss,” the voice of our gate guard, Tony, crackled through the speaker. He sounded terrified. “There’s a convoy out here. Five black SUVs. They’ve blocked the street.”

Vincent pulled his gun from his holster. “Hold the gate, Tony. I’m coming down.”

“Sir, he… he says he only wants to speak to your wife.”

Vincent froze. He looked at me.

“Tell him to go to hell,” Vincent barked into the mic.

But I stepped forward and placed my hand over Vincent’s.

“Sarah, no,” Vincent warned. “Dante is a butcher. He will kill you just to hurt me.”

I picked up the burned rosary and slipped it into my pocket.

“If we fight them today, men will die. Maybe even Leo,” I said calmly. “I won’t let my family be destroyed on my first day holding it together.”