My pregnant sister looked me in the eyes and said, "Your seventeen-year-old son won't survive the night unless you give me what I want." -

Chapter 3 – THE ROSARY

I stared at the photograph until my vision blurred.

Claire and Dominic.

The betrayal twisted in my gut like a physical blade.

My sister hadn’t just stolen my husband. She had manipulated the most dangerous man in Chicago into believing she was carrying his heir, all while sleeping with his second-in-command.

“Vincent is ruthless,” my mother said quietly, taking the photograph back. “But he is also fiercely possessive. He genuinely believes that baby is his. If he knew the truth, he would kill them both.”

“So let him,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Let them destroy each other. I just want to take Anthony and leave.”

“You can’t leave, Mom,” Anthony said softly from his chair.

I turned to him. “Yes, we can. We have nothing left there.”

Anthony shook his head, pulling a small, heavy object from his pocket.

He held it out to me.

It was a wooden rosary.

Vincent’s rosary.

The one he had carried in his pocket every single day since his own father died. He never went anywhere without it.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, my blood running cold.

“Dad gave it to me,” Anthony whispered. “Right before the lights went out. When everyone thought he was walking away with Claire.”

Anthony looked up at me, his eyes filled with terrified tears.

“Mom. Dad didn’t abandon us. He shoved this into my hand and whispered, ‘Run. I’ll buy you time.’ He knew those men weren’t his.”

The room seemed to spin.

Vincent hadn’t chosen Claire over our son.

He had walked out with her to draw the target away from us.

“The men who raided the mansion,” my mother explained, stepping closer. “They belong to the Romano family out of New York. Dominic promised them Vincent’s territory in exchange for the men to take him down tonight.”

“And the FBI files?” I asked, looking at Anthony.

“I never gave them to the FBI,” Anthony admitted, looking down. “I gave them to Celeste.”

Vincent’s twenty-nine-year-old mistress.

“Why would you give them to her?” I asked, utterly bewildered.

“Because she’s not his mistress,” my mother said gently.

She nodded toward the office door.

Rosa stepped inside, followed by someone else.

Celeste.

She looked exhausted, still wearing the smeared mascara from the mansion.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn,” Celeste said quietly. “I know how this looks. But I don’t sleep with your husband.”

She pulled a badge from her designer purse and set it on the metal desk.

Federal Bureau of Investigation.

“Vincent hired me three years ago,” Celeste explained. “He discovered Dominic was skimming money and suspected a coup. He needed a federal agent on the inside to build a RICO case against his own underboss to protect you and Anthony.”

I stared at the badge.

Then at the wooden rosary in my hand.

Everything I had believed for the past three hours was a lie.

“Vincent is trying to dismantle his own empire to keep you two safe,” Celeste said. “But Dominic moved faster than we anticipated. He used Claire to accelerate the timeline.”

My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

“Where is my husband?” I demanded.

Celeste looked at the floor.

“Dominic has him. They took him to the shipyard. And Evelyn… Dominic plans to execute him at dawn, once Claire officially secures the assets in her name.”

I looked at the silver bracelet on my wrist. Then at the wooden rosary in my palm.

I wasn’t a mafia boss. I was a mother and a wife.

But they had threatened my son.

“Then we have until dawn,” I said, my voice hardening to steel. “Tell me how we take Dominic down.”