The Breath in the Casket: A Waitress, a Mafia Boss, and the Secret That Woke the Dead

Elena looked like an angel of death standing in the grime of the diner alley. Her white coat caught the faint neon light, making her glow against the darkness.

"Bravo," Elena purred, her eyes fixed on the leather book in Alessio's hands. "Arthur Bennett truly was a brilliant man. A shame I had to cut his brakes fifteen years ago. He could have been very useful to me."

The confirmation of my father’s murder hit me like a physical blow, but I didn't cry. The tears were gone. Only a deep, hollow rage remained.

Alessio stepped in front of me, the ledger tight in his grip. "Let Dante go. You have what you want."

"Oh, Alessio," Elena tutted, stepping closer. Her armed guards tightened their circle around us. "I don't just want the book. I want the ports. And I want the throne. You are going to sign the transfer papers, and then I am going to watch my men put a bullet in your head."

"And Sofia?" Alessio’s voice trembled with a terrifying restraint.

"The child is asleep in my car," Elena waved a manicured hand toward a black SUV idling at the mouth of the alley. "I suppose I'll send her to a boarding school in Switzerland. Out of sight, out of mind."

Dante, bleeding heavily from his shoulder, looked at Alessio. "Don't do it, boss. She’ll kill the kid anyway to secure the inheritance."

Elena’s guard struck Dante across the face with the butt of his rifle. Dante dropped to his knees with a heavy groan.

"The papers, Alessio," Elena demanded, pulling a folded document from her pocket and tossing it at his feet. "Sign."

Alessio looked at the papers, then at the SUV where his six-year-old niece was sleeping. He looked back at me, his golden eyes filled with a desperate, silent apology. He was going to sacrifice his life, his empire, everything, just for the slight chance that Elena would let Sofia and me live.

He slowly reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a fountain pen. He knelt on the wet asphalt.

"Wait," I blurted out, stepping around Alessio.

Elena rolled her eyes. "Please, little waitress. Do not bore me with a speech about justice."

"I'm not," I said, my voice remarkably steady. I reached into my apron pocket. "I just wanted to ask if you’ve checked on Dr. Evans recently."

Elena frowned. "The doctor is dealing with you."

"The doctor is currently locked in a blast-chiller behind you," I pointed to the heavy steel door of the freezer. "But before we locked him in... he made a phone call."

Elena’s eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"Am I?" I pulled out Dr. Evans's cell phone, which Alessio had scooped off the ground when he dropped the gun. I held it up. The screen was glowing, showing an active call.

"Captain Harris at the precinct," I lied smoothly, naming the corrupt cop Marcus owned. "The doctor realized you were going to kill him to tie up loose ends. He called the cops. He offered them the ledger in exchange for immunity."

Elena’s composure cracked for a fraction of a second. She glanced at the phone, then at her guards.

"Kill them!" she shrieked, pointing at us.

But that split second of distraction was all Alessio and Dante needed.

Dante surged upward from his knees, driving his massive shoulder into the guard who had hit him, sending them both crashing into the brick wall.

At the exact same moment, Alessio dropped the pen, raised the gun he had hidden under the ledger, and fired twice.

Two of Elena’s guards dropped instantly.

Chaos erupted. Gunfire deafened me. Alessio shoved me hard behind a steel dumpster, shielding my body with his own as bullets sparked against the metal.

"Stay down!" Alessio roared, returning fire around the edge of the dumpster.

I clamped my hands over my ears, terrified, but I couldn't look away. I watched Dante, bleeding and feral, disarm another guard and knock him unconscious.

Elena was screaming, backing away toward the SUV. She realized she was losing control. She turned and yanked the backdoor of the SUV open.

She pulled out a tiny figure in pink pajamas. Sofia.

"Stop!" Elena screamed, pressing the barrel of her gun against the terrified child’s head.

The gunfire ceased instantly. The silence that followed was more agonizing than the noise.

Alessio froze, lowering his weapon. His face was a mask of pure agony.

"Drop the gun, Alessio," Elena panted, her pristine white coat now splattered with dirt. Little Sofia was crying, clinging to her aunt’s leg, not understanding what was happening.

Alessio didn't hesitate. He tossed his weapon onto the asphalt. He put his hands up, stepping out from behind the dumpster.

"Take me," Alessio said, his voice breaking. "Let the girl go, Elena. Please."

"You ruined everything," Elena hissed, raising her gun from Sofia’s head and pointing it directly at Alessio’s chest. "Goodbye, brother."

She pulled the trigger.