THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS MAID—UNTIL HIS MOTHER EXPOSED HER DARKEST SECRET

I stared through the blinding rain, entirely paralyzed.

The man standing beside the crushed sports car was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be at the bottom of the Chicago River with Catherine.

“Arthur?” I breathed, my voice barely audible over the storm.

He turned toward me, leaning heavily on his cane. His face was deeply scarred on the left side, pulling his eye into a permanent squint. He looked older, broken, but undeniably alive.

Inside the sports car, Vanessa was screaming, beating her fists frantically against the reinforced glass of her window.

“Open the door!” Arthur barked over the rain, ignoring her screams.

I hurried forward and yanked the passenger door open. Vanessa immediately lunged across the center console, trying to escape, but Arthur struck out with astonishing speed, pinning her to the seat with the heavy silver tip of his cane against her collarbone.

“Hello, Vanessa,” Arthur said softly, a dark, terrifying smile on his scarred face. “It’s been four years. You never did send flowers.”

“You’re dead!” Vanessa shrieked, batting at his cane. “Marcus said you were dead!”

“Marcus is a liar. He left me to drown in that car alongside Catherine. But I managed to kick the windshield out.” Arthur coughed, a wet, rattling sound. “I’ve spent four years hiding in Canada, waiting for you two to make a mistake.”

Suddenly, the front doors of the mansion burst open.

Luca stepped out into the rain, his black suit soaked, his expression murderous. He had Marcus by the collar, dragging the half-conscious security guard down the driveway like a ragdoll.

Luca threw Marcus onto the wet pavement at Arthur’s feet.

When Luca looked up and saw Arthur standing there, he froze.

“You,” Luca growled, a low, guttural sound of pure hatred. He dropped Marcus and lunged toward Arthur.

Arthur didn’t raise a hand to defend himself. He simply looked Luca in the eyes.

“I didn’t kill her, Luca,” Arthur said firmly, standing his ground. “I swear on my soul, I didn’t kill Catherine.”

Luca grabbed Arthur by the lapels of his trench coat, slamming him against the side of the SUV. “You drove her off a bridge! You took my wife!”

“I was trying to save her!” Arthur yelled back, his voice cracking. “Vanessa and Marcus were going to kill all of us! They had Julian. They had Catherine boxed in. I drove the car off the bridge on purpose, into the shallow bank, because I knew it was the only way to fake our deaths and get the target off our backs!”

Luca’s grip loosened slightly. He stared at the scarred, broken man in front of him.

“Catherine survived the crash,” Arthur wept. “She was alive when I pulled her out of the water. But my leg was crushed. I couldn’t walk. Marcus arrived three minutes later. I had to hide in the reeds while I watched him… while I watched him drown her.”

Luca let go of Arthur. He turned slowly toward Marcus, who was groaning on the pavement, trying to crawl away.

Luca didn’t shout. He didn’t run. He walked over to Marcus with terrifying, deliberate steps.

“Don’t do it, Mr. Moretti,” I yelled, running forward. “Don’t kill him! If you kill him, you’ll never find Eliana! They’re the only ones who know where she is!”

Luca stopped inches from Marcus’s face. He looked at me, his chest heaving, the rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. The monster inside him was warring with the father.

The father won.

Luca reached down, grabbed Marcus by his broken, bleeding collar, and hoisted him to his knees.

“Where is my daughter?” Luca demanded.

Marcus spat blood onto the wet driveway. He laughed, a wet, ugly sound. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m a dead man either way.”

Arthur limped forward. He reached into his trench coat and pulled out a thick, manila envelope.

“You don’t need him, Luca,” Arthur said, handing the envelope over. “I’ve spent four years tracking them. I know exactly where they hid her.”

Luca ripped the envelope open. Inside were photographs. Dozens of them.

Pictures of a little girl with dark hair and bright green eyes—Catherine’s eyes. She was playing in a schoolyard. Reading a book under a tree.

“St. Jude’s Academy,” Arthur said. “In upstate New York. She’s safe. They kept her isolated, but they never harmed her. She was too valuable.”

Luca stared at the photos, his thumb gently brushing over his daughter’s smiling face. A profound, shattering relief washed over him.

He looked up at Arthur. “Why didn’t you bring her to me sooner?”

“Because they were watching you,” Arthur said quietly. “If I had brought her back, Marcus would have killed her before she ever reached your front door. I had to wait until they made their final move. Until tonight.”

Luca nodded slowly. He turned to his remaining loyal guards, who had finally poured out of the mansion to surround the driveway.

“Take them,” Luca ordered, pointing to Marcus and Vanessa. “Lock them in the basement. They don’t see the light of day until the police arrive.”

Vanessa screamed as the guards pulled her from the car. “Luca! Luca, please! I loved you! I did it for us!”

Luca didn’t even look at her.

He turned to me. The hardened mafia boss looked exhausted, vulnerable, and deeply human.

“Hannah,” he said softly over the rain. “Go pack a bag. We’re going to New York.”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed violently in my apron pocket.

I pulled it out. It was the night nurse at my mother’s care facility.

I answered immediately, panic rising in my throat. “Hello? Is my mom okay?”

“Hannah, I’m so sorry to call so late,” the nurse said, her voice shaking. “Your mother is fine. But someone broke into her room ten minutes ago. They tore the place apart.”

My blood ran cold.

“Did they take anything?” I asked.

“Just one thing,” the nurse replied. “A photograph you had on her nightstand. The picture of you and your sister when you were kids.”

I dropped the phone.

Luca caught my arm. “Hannah? What is it?”