THE BAKER’S DAUGHTER AND THE MAFIA’S SECRET

The hallways of the Romano estate were a warzone. Thick black smoke curled along the expensive crown molding, and the distant pop of gunfire echoed from the front lawn as Dominic’s security forces finally engaged Vincent’s mercenaries outside.

Dominic moved with the terrifying, silent grace of a predator, his Glock raised. I followed inches behind him, gripping the heavy chef’s knife so tightly my knuckles ached. The silver locket containing the Romano seal bounced against my chest with every step.

We reached the heavy double doors of Thomas’s private library.

Dominic held up a fist. We stopped.

From inside, I could hear the sound of books being violently swept off the shelves, followed by the crash of breaking glass.

“Where are they, Elizabeth?!” Vincent’s voice roared, muffled through the oak doors. “Thomas didn’t trust banks! I know he kept the physical certificates in this house! Tell me where they are, or I swear to God I will shoot you in the spine and leave you paralyzed!”

“I don’t know!” my mother cried out. The sound of her pain made a feral, violent anger spike in my chest. “I was two years old when you took me from this house, Vincent! I don’t know where he hid anything!”

Dominic looked at me, holding up three fingers. Three seconds.

He counted down silently. Two. One.

Dominic kicked the heavy oak doors with the bottom of his boot. They flew open, slamming against the library walls.

The room was in ruins. Thousands of antique books littered the floor. Vincent Bellini stood in the center of the chaos, his silver revolver pressed to the back of my mother’s head. She was forced to her knees, her hands still zip-tied behind her.

Vincent spun toward the doors, dragging my mother up by her hair to use as a shield.

“Drop the gun, Dominic!” Vincent barked, his scarred hand trembling slightly. “Drop it, or she’s dead!”

Dominic didn’t lower his weapon. His aim remained perfectly centered on the two inches of Vincent’s forehead visible behind my mother.

“You’re out of time, Vincent,” Dominic said coldly. “My men have your mercenaries pinned down outside. The police are five minutes away. You aren’t getting the bearer bonds.”

Vincent laughed, a desperate, manic sound. He held up the detonator with the blinking red light.

“Then we all die together!” Vincent screamed. “I press this button, the C4 in the basement goes off, and this whole house collapses on top of us! I have nothing left to lose!”

“Dad, stop!”

We all turned.

Vanessa stumbled into the library. Her red silk dress was ruined, her face bruised, but she held the suppressed pistol she had dropped in the kitchen. She aimed it squarely at Dominic’s back.

“Drop the gun, Dominic,” Vanessa sneered, her confidence returning. “Or I shoot you, and my father shoots Elizabeth.”

Dominic didn’t flinch, but I saw his jaw tighten. He was caught in a crossfire.

“Vanessa, honey,” Vincent smiled, his eyes gleaming. “Did you bring me the seal?”

“No, Dad,” Vanessa said, glancing at me. “The maid has it. It’s in her locket.”

Vincent’s eyes snapped to me. The greed in his gaze was sickening.

“Bring it to me, Anna,” Vincent commanded softly. “Bring me the locket, and I’ll let your mother walk out of here.”

“Don’t do it, Anna!” my mother screamed. Vincent jerked her hair, silencing her.

I looked at Dominic. He gave me a microscopic shake of his head. No.

But I couldn’t let my mother die. And I suddenly remembered something Eleanor had said in the cellar.

“The shares are already safe. My husband mailed the bearer bonds to a secure law firm in Switzerland fifteen years ago.”

Vincent didn’t know the bonds weren’t in the house. He thought possessing the seal would give him immediate access to the wealth hidden somewhere in this room.

I took a slow breath and stepped out from behind Dominic.

“Anna, no,” Dominic warned sharply.

“It’s okay,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on Vincent. I slowly reached up and unclasped the silver locket from my neck. I held it out. “Let her go, Vincent. And you can have the seal.”

“Toss it on the floor between us,” Vincent ordered.

I threw the locket. It landed with a soft clink on a pile of torn books, halfway between Dominic and Vincent.

“Vanessa, get it,” Vincent said.

Vanessa kept her gun trained on Dominic as she slowly walked forward and picked up the locket. She popped it open, smiling when she saw the silver shield inside. She tossed it to her father.

Vincent caught it with his free hand. He looked at the completed Romano seal. A look of absolute ecstasy washed over his face.

“Finally,” Vincent breathed. “Twenty-four years. Now, where are the damn bonds?!”

“I know where they are,” I lied, my voice steady.

Everyone in the room froze. Dominic looked at me, confusion flashing in his dark eyes.

“Where?” Vincent demanded, stepping forward, momentarily lowering his gun from my mother’s head.

“Mrs. Romano told me tonight, right before the dinner,” I said, improvising desperately. “She said Thomas hid them inside a book. The only book he truly cared about.”

“Which one?!” Vincent yelled, gesturing wildly at the thousands of books on the floor.

I pointed toward the corner of the room.

“The blue cookbook,” I said. “The one you tore the recipe card from, Vanessa. It’s sitting right there on the desk.”

Vincent’s eyes darted to the heavy mahogany desk. Resting perfectly untouched in the center was the worn, blue cookbook Thomas used to bake the chocolate strawberry cake.

Greed completely blinded him. Vincent shoved my mother aside, letting her fall to the floor, and lunged toward the desk.

“Dad, wait!” Vanessa yelled, realizing something was wrong.

But Vincent had already grabbed the cookbook. He flipped it open violently, expecting to find millions of dollars in bearer bonds hollowed out inside the pages.

But there were no bonds.

There was only a single, fresh piece of paper Dominic had slipped inside earlier that evening.

Vincent stared at it. “What is this?!”

Dominic didn’t hesitate. The second Vincent’s gun had moved away from my mother, Dominic spun around, kicking the suppressed pistol out of Vanessa’s hand. He grabbed her by the arm, twisting it behind her back and forcing her to the floor.

I didn’t wait. I lunged forward with the chef’s knife, sliding across the scattered books, and slashed the zip-ties binding my mother’s wrists.

“Mom, get down!” I yelled, pulling her behind a heavy leather armchair.

Vincent realized he had been tricked. He raised his silver revolver with a roar of fury.

But Dominic was faster.

Dominic raised his Glock and fired a single shot.

The bullet struck the detonator in Vincent’s hand, shattering the plastic device into a hundred pieces of sparking wire and useless metal. The threat of the C4 was neutralized in a microsecond.

Vincent shrieked in pain, dropping the ruined detonator. He looked at his bleeding hand, then up at Dominic, realizing he had lost everything.