Chapter 3 – THE ROSARY’S SECRET

I stared at the tiny brass key resting in the palm of my hand.

“The real will?” I whispered. “Your husband’s will?”

Evelyn nodded slowly against her pillows.

“He… knew… Marco… was… greedy,” she forced the words out, her face tight with effort. “He… left… the… truth… in… the… safe.”

My mind was spinning.

Marco had just threatened my brother’s future. If I got involved, I risked everything.

But looking at Evelyn—a mother who had spent her whole life protecting her family, now trapped in her own failing body—I knew I couldn’t walk away.

“Where is the safe?” I asked softly.

Evelyn pointed a shaky finger downward.

“Study,” she managed to say. “Behind… his… portrait.”

Antonio’s study.

The most heavily guarded room in the mansion.

“I’ll find a way,” I promised, tucking the blankets around her.

As I stepped out of her bedroom, the hallway was dark.

The house was eerily silent following the explosive engagement dinner.

I crept down the back stairs, my apron still tied around my waist.

When I reached the ground floor, I saw a sliver of light spilling from beneath the study doors.

Antonio was still awake.

I pushed the door open just an inch.

Antonio was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, his face buried in his hands. A crystal glass of amber liquid sat untouched beside him.

Dr. Holland was gone.

“You can come in, Lily,” Antonio said, not looking up.

I froze, then pushed the door open completely.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was just… checking to see if you needed anything.”

He finally looked up. The ruthless mafia boss was gone. In his place was a son drowning in betrayal.

“How is she?” he asked softly.

“She’s sleeping, sir.”

Antonio sighed, leaning back in his leather chair. “I gave Bianca everything. I gave her my trust. And she tried to steal my mother.”

He looked at the large oil painting of his father, Vincenzo, hanging on the wall behind him.

Right where the safe was hidden.

“Sir,” I started, my voice shaking. “There’s something you need to know. About Marco.”

Antonio’s eyes snapped to me. Sharp. Dangerous.

“What about Marco?”

Before I could speak, the study doors swung open behind me.

Marco stepped into the room.

My heart stopped.

“Everything alright, Boss?” Marco asked, his tone perfectly casual. But his eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying promise of violence.

He was holding a piece of paper.

“I just got off the phone with the foundation,” Marco said smoothly, walking toward the desk. “Approved a few new nursing scholarships. Including one for Thomas Bennett.”

He placed the paper on Antonio’s desk. It was a signed guarantee for my brother’s full tuition.

Marco looked at me. “Lily was just thanking me. Weren’t you, Lily?”

The threat was clear.

Speak, and my brother loses everything.

I swallowed the lump of terror in my throat.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Thank you, Marco.”

Antonio frowned, looking between the two of us. He was a predator; he could sense when the air in a room changed.

“It’s late, Lily. Go to bed,” Antonio ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

I turned and walked out, feeling Marco’s dead eyes on my back.

I had failed. I couldn’t tell him.

I retreated to my small room near the kitchen, but I didn’t sleep. I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, staring at the tiny brass key Evelyn had given me.

Marco thought he had silenced me.

But he didn’t know I had the key to Vincenzo’s real will.

At 3:00 AM, the house was completely silent.

I slipped out of my room, wearing only socks to muffle my footsteps.

I crept back to the study.

The door was unlocked. The room was dark.

I tiptoed behind the massive desk and stood before the oil painting of Vincenzo Caruso.

My hands shook as I reached out and gently pulled the wooden frame.

It swung outward on silent hinges.

Behind it was a steel wall safe.

I inserted the tiny brass key into the lock.

It turned with a soft click.

I pulled the heavy door open.

Inside sat a thick, sealed envelope with Antonio’s name on it.

I reached for it, relief flooding my chest.

Suddenly, the study lights blazed on.

“I knew you were a little rat,” a cold voice said.

I spun around.

Bianca was standing in the doorway, a silver pistol pointed directly at my chest.

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