“The Mafia Boss’s Baby Reached for My Necklace—Then His Bodyguard Whispered, ‘Boss, Look at the Pendant’”

The Chicago wind howled through the empty plaza in front of the neo-Gothic architecture of the Tribune Tower. It was 5:00 AM, the sky a bruised purple, moments away from dawn.

I stood completely alone at the base of the tower, the heavy velvet coat wrapped tightly around me, hiding the fact that I was shaking uncontrollably.

A sleek black Maybach pulled up to the curb.

The back door opened, and Silas Moretti stepped out. He was an older, sharper version of Dante. He wore a pristine gray suit, leaning heavily on a silver-tipped cane, his eyes cold and devoid of any human empathy. Behind him, flanked by heavily armed men, was Marco—Dante’s traitorous second-in-command.

Silas promised to come alone. Of course, he lied.

“Alina,” Silas smiled, spreading his arms as if greeting a beloved family member. “You look just like your mother. She was a beautiful, stubborn nuisance.”

“Where is the guarantee that Dante and Leo get out of Chicago safely?” I demanded, keeping my distance.

Silas chuckled, leaning on his cane. “Oh, my dear. Dante is bleeding out in an abandoned church. My men are already on their way to finish him off. You have absolutely no leverage here.”

My stomach plummeted, but I forced my face to remain entirely impassive. I couldn't let him see my terror.

“You think my mother ran for twenty-five years just to leave the family legacy unprotected?” I asked smoothly.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the silver phoenix pendant. I held it up by the chain, letting it catch the dim streetlights.

“The ledger is in a bio-metric vault inside this building,” I lied effortlessly, praying my mother’s ghost was guiding my tongue. “It requires the pendant and my fingerprint. Without me, the vault permanently incinerates the documents.”

Silas’s smile faltered. Greed flashed in his dark eyes. The legitimate deeds were worth billions; they were his only way to sanitize his criminal empire.

“Marco,” Silas snapped. “Go with her. If she tries anything, shoot her in the spine.”

Marco stepped forward, his gun drawn. He grabbed my arm roughly, shoving me toward the heavy brass doors of the building.

We walked into the echoing, marble-floored lobby. The security guards were nowhere to be found, likely bought off by Silas hours ago.

“Downstairs,” I directed Marco, my voice echoing in the vast space.

We descended into the basement, a maze of old archival rooms and heavy steel doors. I led Marco to a massive, reinforced door at the end of the hall. It was an old maintenance vault, but in the dim light, it looked like a high-security lockbox.

“Open it,” Marco ordered, pressing the gun to the base of my skull.

I took a deep breath. I raised my hand, pressing the silver phoenix pendant against the electronic keypad next to the door.

Answer one: The pendant wasn't a key. It was a beacon.

I didn't press my fingerprint to open a vault. I pressed the panic button Dante had discreetly built into the back of the pendant years ago to track his family.

A red light flashed on the keypad.

Suddenly, the power to the entire basement cut out, plunging us into pitch-black darkness.

“What did you do?!” Marco yelled, grabbing my coat.

But I had already slipped out of the oversized velvet sleeves, diving to the cold concrete floor.

The heavy steel door at the end of the hall didn't open. But the elevator doors behind us did.

Night-vision lasers cut through the darkness. The deafening roar of suppressed gunfire echoed through the hallway. Marco screamed, dropping his weapon as he collapsed to the floor, his kneecaps shattered.

The emergency lights flickered on, casting a sickly yellow glow over the basement.

Standing in the elevator, leaning heavily on Enzo for support but holding a submachine gun with deadly stability, was Dante. His white shirt was soaked in blood, his face pale as death, but his gray eyes burned with the fury of a protective dragon.

“Dante!” I gasped, scrambling to my feet.

“You really thought I’d let you trade your life for mine, little sister?” Dante gave a strained, fierce smile.

Before I could run to him, the stairwell door burst open.