THE MAFIA BOSS AND THE WAITRESS: A DANGEROUS BOND

The burner phone buzzed against the granite countertop like an angry hornet.

I stared at it, my chest tightening. Tony had slipped this into my purse. The man who had given me my first job in the city, who had let me take home leftover bread when I couldn't afford groceries, had deliberately planted a burner phone on me.

I reached out with shaking fingers and pressed the green answer button. I lifted it to my ear, but didn't say a word.

"You found the key the little girl was hiding," a voice rasped through the speaker. It was a wet, gravelly sound, like stones grinding together. "Bring it to the service alley behind Bellanote in exactly one hour. Come alone. If you tell Russo, or if you don't show... I’m going to send you Tony’s fingers in a takeout box."

The line went dead.

The air vanished from my lungs. Tony wasn't betraying me—he was a hostage. He had been forced to come up here, forced to wear that flashy watch as some sick power move, forced to deliver the phone.

"Clara."

I spun around. Dante was standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes locked on the black plastic phone in my hand. He moved with a terrifying grace, crossing the room and taking the phone from my grip. He checked the call log. It was empty.

"Who was it?" Dante asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"He said... he said he has Tony," I stammered, tears springing to my eyes. "He knows I have the key. He said if I don't bring it to the alley behind the restaurant in an hour, he'll mutilate Tony."

Dante’s expression didn't change, but his eyes turned into chips of glacial ice. "It’s Silas."

"We have to call the police," I pleaded, grabbing his forearm. "Dante, Tony is a good man! He has a wife!"

"The police can't stop Silas. If sirens show up at that alley, Tony is dead before the cruisers even park," Dante said bluntly. He pulled his arm away gently but firmly. "You stay here. Lock the door. Do not let anyone inside, no matter who they say they are."

"What are you going to do?"

"I’m going to answer the invitation," Dante said, pulling his suit jacket back on to conceal his weapon.

"He said to come alone!"

"Silas is a rabid dog, Clara. He doesn't negotiate. If you show up, he takes the key and kills you both." Dante paused at the elevator doors, turning to look at me. The ruthless mafia boss was gone, replaced by a fiercely protective guardian. "I will not let him touch you. And I will not let him touch Sophia. I'll bring your boss back."

The elevator doors closed, leaving me completely alone in the sprawling, silent penthouse.

I ran to the front door, throwing the deadbolts and hooking the security chain. The silence of the apartment was deafening. The storm outside had worsened, rain lashing fiercely against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

I crept down the hallway to check on Sophia.

When I pushed her door open, my heart nearly stopped.

Sophia was sitting straight up in bed in the dark. Her eyes were wide, staring blankly at the closet door.

"Sophia?" I whispered, rushing to her side. "Baby, are you okay?"

She turned her head slowly to look at me. Her little lip trembled.

"He was in the kitchen," Sophia whispered.

They were the first words she had spoken in three days. Her voice was raspy, broken from crying.

I froze, kneeling beside her bed. "Who, sweetheart? Who was in the kitchen?"

"The snake man," Sophia said, tears finally spilling over her cheeks. "He put a powder in Mommy's water. Mommy drank it. Then she fell down. She told me to hide the key in my bear. She said run."

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. Reversal.

Isabella hadn't abandoned her daughter. She hadn't packed her bags and run away with the cartel to betray Dante. Silas had poisoned her right here in this apartment. Isabella had hidden the key with Sophia to protect her, sacrificing herself so the cartel wouldn't find what they were looking for.

Isabella was dead. And she died a hero trying to protect her child.

"Oh, God," I choked out, wrapping my arms fiercely around the little girl. "I've got you, Sophia. I promise, I've got you."

Suddenly, the bedside lamp flickered.

Then, with a heavy, mechanical clunk, the power in the entire penthouse cut out.

The room plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.

The hum of the central air conditioning died. The digital clocks vanished.

A second later, the electronic deadbolt on the front door down the hall clicked loudly, unlocking itself.