THE FIANCÉE’S DEADLY HONEYMOON PLOT

Adrian stared at the antique silver key in his nine-year-old nephew's hand.

The gun in his grip wavered. For a split second, the polished, arrogant exterior of the mafia prince cracked, revealing pure, unadulterated terror beneath.

“Put that down, Noah,” Adrian commanded, his voice cracking.

I grabbed Noah’s waist and pulled him firmly behind me again, keeping my body between him and the barrel of the gun.

Dante’s eyes were locked on the key.

“Elena’s key,” Dante whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.

Three years ago, Elena Marino had died when her brakes failed on a steep mountain road. The car had plummeted into a ravine and burst into flames. The police report stated that everything in the vehicle, including her purse and the keys to her private safety deposit box, was incinerated.

“How do you have that, Adrian?” Dante asked, his voice dropping to a low, guttural growl that made the hair on my arms stand up.

“It’s a replica!” Camilla shouted from the corner of the room, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of a sideboard. “He bought it at an antique shop! It’s a coincidence!”

Dante didn’t even look at her. He took a slow, deliberate step toward his brother.

“Marco,” Dante said, without breaking eye contact with Adrian. “Clear the room. Everyone except my brother, my fiancé, Emily, and my son.”

Marco barked the order. The thirty-six elite guests practically trampled each other in their rush to escape through the double doors, desperate to distance themselves from a mafia blood feud.

Once the heavy doors clicked shut, it was just the six of us.

“You killed her,” Dante stated. It wasn’t a question.

Adrian’s face was slick with sweat. He kept the gun raised.

“She was going to divorce you, Dante!” Adrian screamed defensively. “She found out about the offshore accounts. She was going to take Noah, go to the Feds, and expose the entire syndicate! I did it to protect the family!”

Noah buried his face in my apron, sobbing silently. I stroked his hair, my heart shattering for this little boy who was hearing his mother's murder confessed in a dining room.

“You did it to protect yourself,” Dante corrected, taking another step forward. The barrel of the gun was now only a few feet from his chest. “Elena didn't care about the syndicate. She only cared about the Swiss accounts. The legitimate billions my grandfather left entirely to Noah in the trust.”

Adrian swallowed hard.

Dante had figured it out.

Noah’s trust fund was locked until his tenth birthday—which was exactly three months away. As his only surviving parent, Dante controlled it. But if Dante was dead, and Adrian had legal custody of Noah... Adrian would control the billions.

“I’m heavily in debt, Dante,” Adrian confessed, his voice breaking. “I lost forty million in bad real estate deals. The Russian syndicate is calling my markers. If I don’t pay them by midnight tonight, they’re going to skin me alive. I needed Noah’s trust. I needed you gone.”

“And Camilla?” Dante asked coldly.

“She’s broke,” Adrian laughed bitterly. “Her father lost everything. She’s been sleeping with me for a year, Dante. She was going to marry you, inherit the estate, and send Noah to a boarding school so we could drain his accounts from Geneva.”

Camilla let out a sharp cry. “Adrian, shut up!”

But Dante wasn’t looking at Adrian anymore.

His eyes had shifted to Camilla’s chest.

Resting against her collarbone, sparkling under the chandeliers, was a massive, deep-blue sapphire necklace.

“Take it off,” Dante ordered Camilla.

Camilla touched the necklace instinctively, her face draining of blood. “It’s... it’s mine. I bought it.”

“That is the Heart of the Sea,” Dante said, his voice trembling with a terrifying rage. “My grandfather bought it in 1960. It was the only thing Elena kept in her private safe. Take it off right now.”

Camilla fumbled with the clasp, tears of panic ruining her flawless makeup. She pulled the heavy necklace off and let it drop onto the carpet.

Dante walked over, ignoring Adrian’s gun. He knelt and picked up the necklace.

He turned it over.

With a sharp press of his thumb, Dante pushed against the silver backing of the massive sapphire.

There was a tiny click.

The back of the necklace popped open like a locket.

It was hollow inside.

And resting inside the hollow chamber was a tiny, black micro-SD card.

Adrian gasped, lowering his gun slightly. “What is that? Camilla, you said the safe only had the jewelry!”

“I didn’t know!” Camilla shrieked, backing away.

Dante pulled a sleek smartphone from his pocket. He snapped the back cover off, inserted the micro-SD card into the slot, and bypassed his security screen.

He tapped a single audio file that popped up on the screen.

The silence in the room was absolute.

Then, a woman’s voice echoed from the phone speaker.

It was Elena.

“Dante,” her recorded voice said, trembling and breathless. “If you are hearing this, it means I didn’t make it to the airport. Adrian knows I have the evidence. He knows I found out he’s been selling our shipping routes to the Russians. He’s going to kill me, Dante.”

Noah let out a loud, heartbroken wail.

“But I didn’t run empty-handed,” Elena’s voice continued. “I took his master ledger. I hid it in the one place he would never look. Look inside the lining of Noah’s winter coat. Keep our boy safe, Dante. I love you both.”

The recording clicked off.

Adrian stared at the phone in sheer horror.

The evidence wasn’t destroyed. It was in the mansion.

Before Dante could even speak, all the lights in the mansion abruptly cut out.

The dining room was plunged into pitch blackness.

Marco’s radio crackled to life, the security guard’s panicked voice echoing in the dark.