THE MAFIA’S HEIR AND THE SISTER’S SECRET

The silenced pistol was a dull, terrifying black.

Luca spun around, his hand flying to the holster at his waist, but Silas quickly shifted his aim, pointing the gun squarely at Luca’s back.

"Drop it, Luca," Silas commanded, his voice devoid of the uncle-like warmth he had projected just moments ago. "Slowly."

Luca froze. His dark eyes darted from the gun to Silas’s face, processing the massive betrayal in a fraction of a second. "Silas. What the hell are you doing?"

"Cleaning up a mess," Silas said coldly. "Put the gun on the floor. Now."

Luca slowly drew his weapon with two fingers and set it on the Persian rug. He kicked it away. "You." Luca’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. "It was you in the alley with Maya."

"She was a liability, Luca!" Silas spat, his composure cracking. "She was a waitress, just like this one! A nobody! You were going to marry her. You were going to legitimize the businesses and walk away from the families. You were going to ruin the Moretti legacy for a pretty face."

"So you killed the woman I loved?" Luca asked, his voice shaking with a rage so profound it made the air in the room feel heavy.

"I protected the family," Silas corrected. "I took the three million to pay off the Rossi syndicate to keep the peace, and I pinned it on her. It was perfect. You hated her for stealing from you, and she was dead. Until this stupid girl showed up."

Silas gestured toward me with the barrel of the gun. "She recognized the watch. Didn't you, Avery?"

I backed up against the heavy oak desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You killed my sister."

"It was nothing personal," Silas said. "Just business. And now, unfortunately, you’re going to have a tragic accident on your way home tonight."

"Silas, listen to me," Luca said, taking a slow step forward, placing himself slightly between me and the gun. "You pull that trigger, you don't make it out of this house alive. My men are right outside that door."

"Your men are loyal to whoever pays them," Silas sneered. "And with the offshore accounts under my control now, I pay them."

Silas raised the gun, aiming it at my head. "Goodbye, Avery."

"Wait!" I screamed, my hand desperately grabbing blindly behind me on the desk. My fingers closed around a heavy, sharp object. A crystal paperweight.

Without thinking, I hurled it at the fireplace.

The heavy crystal shattered against the stone hearth with a deafening crash.

The sudden, violent noise startled Silas. He flinched, his aim pulling to the right just as he pulled the trigger.

Thwip.

The bullet shattered the wood paneling inches from my ear.

In that exact millisecond, Luca lunged. He tackled his uncle to the floor. The gun clattered out of Silas’s hand, sliding across the polished hardwood toward me.

"Get the gun, Avery!" Luca roared as he struggled to pin the older man down. Silas was surprisingly strong, driving a brutal elbow into Luca’s ribs.

I dropped to my knees, scrambling across the floor. My fingers closed around the warm metal of the pistol. It was heavier than I expected.

I scrambled backward, raising the weapon with shaking hands. "Stop!" I screamed.

Luca had Silas pinned by the throat, his fist raised to deliver a crushing blow. He stopped, looking up at me.

Silas gasped for air, his face turning purple. "You won't shoot me," he wheezed, staring at my trembling hands. "You're a waitress. You don't have the stomach for it."

He shoved Luca hard, trying to roll free.

I didn't think. I just aimed at the floorboard right next to Silas's ear and pulled the trigger.

Thwip.

The bullet buried itself into the expensive rug, leaving a smoking hole two inches from Silas’s head.

Silas went completely still, his eyes wide with shock.

"The next one goes in your kneecap," I lied, my voice shaking but loud. "Don't move."

Luca stared at me, a flash of pure admiration crossing his dark features. He quickly pulled his zip-tie cuffs from his pocket and bound Silas’s hands tightly behind his back.

He hauled Silas to his feet and shoved him into a heavy armchair.

"My men are loyal to me," Luca told Silas coldly. "You underestimated how much they hated you."

Luca pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a quick message. Less than ten seconds later, the living room doors opened, and the two massive bodyguards from the restaurant stepped in. They took one look at Silas bound in the chair and didn't even blink.

"Take him to the warehouse," Luca ordered. "Do not let anyone else near him. I'll deal with him later."

As they dragged a cursing Silas out of the room, Luca turned to me. The adrenaline was fading, and my knees finally gave out. I sank onto the edge of the sofa, the gun slipping from my fingers onto the cushion.

I had a nephew. My sister was murdered by the man who just tried to kill me.

A sob tore from my throat. I covered my face with my hands, the tears coming fast and hard.

I felt the sofa dip beside me. Luca didn't speak. He just sat next to me, his large, warm hand hesitantly resting on my back. It was a comforting, grounding weight.

"I'm sorry," Luca said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Avery. I failed to protect her."

I wiped my face, looking up at him. The feared mafia boss looked broken. "You loved her."

"More than my own life," he whispered.

"Then why did Silas say Maya was going to run?" I asked, my mind racing to put the pieces together. "Silas framed her for the theft, yes. But why did she have a safehouse in the first place? Why was she hiding from you?"

Luca’s face darkened. He stood up, pacing toward the fireplace. "Three weeks before she died, Maya started acting paranoid. She packed a bag and took Leo. She left me a note saying the family was never going to accept her, and she had to protect our son. I put her in the safehouse myself to figure out who was threatening her. I thought it was a rival family."

"But it wasn't," I said.

"No," Luca said softly. "It was someone inside."

Suddenly, Luca stopped pacing. He stared at the shattered crystal on the hearth. "Silas didn't have the authority to move three million dollars from the central trust without a second signature. The offshore accounts require two keys."

He looked at me, a new, terrible realization dawning in his eyes.

"Silas wasn't acting alone," Luca whispered. "Someone else ordered the hit on your sister."

Before I could ask who, the heavy oak doors of the living room swung open again.

A woman stepped into the room. She was in her late sixties, impeccably dressed in a dark tailored suit, a string of perfect pearls around her neck. Her face was a masterclass in cold, untouchable elegance.

It was Elena Moretti. Luca’s mother. The Matriarch.

"Luca, darling," Elena said, her voice smooth as glass, completely ignoring the bullet hole in the wall and the gun on the sofa. "I heard a disturbance. Whatever is going on with the staff?"

She finally turned her gaze to me. Her eyes landed on the silver sparrow around my neck.