THE HEIR'S RECKONING

Guns were instantly pointed down through the open grate.

"Come up. Slowly," Frank Delaney ordered, his voice echoing in the cold armory.

Michael raised his hands, stepping onto the top crate. Sophia and Caroline followed, leaving their weapons behind. Victoria climbed the narrow ladder last, refusing assistance, her chin held high despite the overwhelming odds.

They were pulled into the lavish office. Carlo Romano sat behind his mahogany desk, looking at his family like pieces on a chessboard he had already won.

Anthony, still tied to the chair, looked at Victoria with wide, terrified eyes. "Grandmother... I'm sorry. He manipulated me."

"Silence," Carlo snapped. He focused his cold eyes on Michael. "My son. You have your mother's stubborn jaw."

"I am Daniel Hayes's son," Michael said, his voice remarkably steady.

Carlo chuckled. "Daniel was a servant. A thief who stole my property. I made sure he suffered before he died."

Michael felt a surge of pure rage, but Caroline squeezed his arm subtly, warning him to stay calm.

"You wanted the ledger, Carlo," Victoria said, stepping in front of Michael. She pulled the old leather book from her coat. "Here it is. Let them go. This is between you and me."

"It hasn't been between you and me for twenty-six years, my love," Carlo said, standing up. "This is about legacy. I am taking back the city tonight. But I cannot have a divided house."

He walked around the desk, stopping in front of Michael.

Carlo reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple, worn wooden rosary.

"Do you know what this is, Michael?" Carlo asked, holding it up.

Michael stared at the beads. He recognized them instantly. "That belonged to my father. Daniel. He held it every night before bed."

"He held it when my men beat him to death," Carlo corrected smoothly. "I took it from his body as a souvenir. A reminder of what happens to those who defy me."

Carlo tossed the wooden rosary onto the floor at Michael's feet.

Then, Carlo handed Michael a loaded pistol.

"You want to be a Romano, Michael?" Carlo said, his voice dropping to a hypnotic, terrifying whisper. "You want to claim your birthright? Prove it."

Carlo pointed to Anthony, who was sobbing in the chair.

"Kill the imposter," Carlo commanded. "Shoot the boy who took your place. Erase the fake heir, and you will stand by my side as the King of this city."

Victoria gasped. "Carlo, no! He isn't a killer!"

"He is my blood," Carlo roared. "He has darkness in him. I can see it!"

Michael looked at the heavy pistol in his hand. He looked at Anthony, the arrogant, cruel young man who had tried to poison their grandmother an hour ago. Anthony had stolen Michael's life of luxury, while Michael had scrubbed floors and served arrogant rich people.

"Please," Anthony begged, tears streaming down his bruised face. "Michael, please."

Michael looked at the wooden rosary on the floor. He remembered his father's calloused hands, the gentle way Daniel had taught him how to tie a tie, how to respect people, how to carry himself with quiet dignity.

Daniel Hayes had died to keep Michael away from this exact moment.

Michael raised the gun.

He didn't aim at Anthony.

He aimed directly at Carlo's chest.

"I am my father's son," Michael said, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The gun was empty.

Carlo smiled a wide, terrible smile. "A test, my boy. And you failed."

Carlo signaled to Frank. "Kill them all. Start with the women."

Frank raised his submachine gun.

But as Frank’s finger tightened on the trigger, the heavy mahogany doors of the office violently burst open.

A deafening explosion of gunfire filled the room. Frank was thrown backward, dropping his weapon. The two guards standing by the grate collapsed instantly.

Standing in the doorway, holding a smoking shotgun, was a man Victoria hadn't seen in two decades.

It was the family physician. Dr. Rossi. The man who had sworn to keep her secret.