THE WAITRESS, THE WINE, AND THE MAFIA BOSS'S LOST SON

The muted thwip-thwip-thwip of the suppressed submachine gun cut through the sanctuary.

But Dominic didn't fall.

Before Victoria pulled the trigger, Nicholas lunged forward, tackling his father to the stone floor behind the heavy oak pews.

The bullets chewed through the wooden backs of the benches, sending splinters flying into the air.

"Run!" Dominic roared, shoving Nicholas toward the side aisle.

I didn't wait. I grabbed Grace by the arm and dragged her behind a massive marble pillar supporting the arched ceiling. The stone chipped violently as one of Victoria’s men laid down covering fire in our direction.

"Spread out!" Victoria ordered her men. "Check the aisles! I want them all dead!"

"Victoria, stop!" Elias screamed from his wheelchair near the altar. "Nicholas is innocent! He's Hale blood!"

Victoria walked slowly down the center aisle, her heels clicking against the stone floor. She stopped beside her father’s wheelchair.

"Hale blood?" Victoria laughed softly, looking down at the frail old man. "You gave away our empire, Father. You hid in the shadows for ten years while I did the dirty work. You promised me the throne, but the moment you found out the boy was alive, you wanted to give it all to him. Your precious male heir."

Elias looked up at his daughter, genuine fear finally breaking his arrogant facade. "Victoria... I did it for the family."

"I am the family," Victoria whispered.

She raised her weapon and shot her own father twice in the chest.

Elias slumped back in his wheelchair, dead instantly.

I clamped my hand over Grace’s mouth to keep her from screaming. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. Victoria wasn't just a vengeful daughter; she was a monster.

"Dominic!" Victoria called out, her voice sing-song and terrifying. "Come out, darling! Let’s finish our engagement dinner!"

Silence answered her.

I peeked around the edge of the marble pillar. Victoria’s six men were fanning out, moving systematically through the pews. Two of them were heading down the side aisle, straight toward where Grace and I were hiding.

I looked frantically for a weapon. Nothing. Just hymn books and votive candles.

Then I heard a heavy metallic click from the shadows near the altar.

Dominic stepped out from behind a statue of Saint Michael. He had retrieved his dropped pistol.

He didn't say a word. He raised his gun and fired twice, dropping the two men closest to Victoria.

"Kill him!" Victoria screamed, diving behind her father’s wheelchair for cover.

The remaining four men turned their weapons on Dominic. Gunfire erupted, deafening and chaotic. Dominic dove behind a heavy stone baptismal font, pinning them down with precise return fire.

The two men who had been walking toward me turned back toward the center aisle to help Victoria.

This was our chance.

"Grace, the side door," I whispered, pointing to a small, heavy wooden door twenty feet away that led to the rectory.

"I'm not leaving you," Grace cried softly.

"You go first, I'm right behind you. Move!"

Grace scrambled from behind the pillar and sprinted toward the door.

One of Victoria’s men caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his rifle toward my daughter.

"No!" I screamed, lunging out from behind the pillar.

I grabbed a heavy, brass candelabra from a side table and threw it as hard as I could at the man. It hit him squarely in the face, knocking him off balance just as he fired.

The bullet hit the stone wall inches from Grace's head. She screamed, throwing herself through the wooden door into the rectory.

The man recovered, wiping blood from his nose. He looked at me, pure rage in his eyes, and raised his rifle again.

I closed my eyes, preparing for the end.

A single gunshot rang out.

But I didn't feel any pain.

I opened my eyes. The man stood frozen for a second before collapsing onto the stone floor.

Standing behind him was Nicholas. He held a gun he had picked up from one of the fallen guards. His hands were shaking violently, but his aim had been true.

"Mrs. Bennett, go!" Nicholas yelled.

I ran to the side door and slipped inside the rectory. Grace grabbed me, sobbing into my shoulder.

"We have to call the police," Grace sobbed. "They're going to kill them."

But outside in the sanctuary, the gunfire suddenly stopped.

"Drop it, Dominic!" Victoria’s voice echoed sharply. "Drop the gun, or your boy dies!"

I cracked the wooden door open and looked out.

Victoria was standing in the center aisle. She had a gun pressed to the back of Nicholas’s head. She had caught him when he fired to save me.

Dominic stood up from behind the baptismal font, bleeding from a graze on his arm. His gun was still in his hand, but he didn't aim it.

"Let him go, Victoria," Dominic said, his voice surprisingly calm. "He has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with this!" Victoria spat. "He's the rightful heir to the Hale family! If he lives, the Commission will never recognize me as the head. I need him dead, and I need you dead, Dominic."

"Then shoot me," Dominic challenged, stepping out from behind cover, leaving himself completely exposed. "Shoot me right now. But let him walk out that door."

Victoria smiled. "Oh, I will. But I want you to watch him die first."

She cocked the hammer of her gun.

But as she prepared to pull the trigger, the massive stained-glass window above the altar shattered inward.

Flashbang grenades rolled across the stone floor, erupting in blinding flashes of white light and deafening booms.

"FBI! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

Dozens of federal agents swarmed into the cathedral from the front doors, the side entrances, and the shattered windows.

Victoria fired blindly into the light, but three agents returned fire instantly. She dropped her weapon, screaming as a bullet tore through her shoulder, and collapsed onto the stone floor.

Detective Russo stepped through the smoke, holding a tactical rifle.

He looked at Victoria writhing on the ground, then at Elias's body, and finally at Dominic.

"I told you to stay in the light, Caruso," Russo sighed.

Dominic didn't answer. He dropped his empty gun and ran to Nicholas, pulling the young man into a fierce, desperate embrace.

"I've got you," Dominic whispered, burying his face in Nicholas's shoulder. "I've got you, son."