THROW THAT FILTHY BOOK IN THE TRASH! NOBODY WANTS HER PEASANT RECIPES AT MY WEDDING!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 77-YEAR-OLD MOTHER DURING THEIR WEDDING MENU TASTING—BUT WHEN THE 25-YEAR-OLD KITCHEN ASSISTANT CAUGHT THE BOOK AND WHISPERED, “SHE MADE ME COPY EVERY PAGE BEFORE SHE FIRED YOUR MOTHER,” MARCO DELUCA SLOWLY PUT DOWN HIS FORK

Chapter 10 – THE JADE NECKLACE

The kitchen descended into absolute silence.

Thirty-five years. Russo had waited thirty-five years, and now, the very night we celebrated our victory over Richard Hale, the ghosts of the past were at our front door.

“Lock the gates down,” Marco ordered the guard. “Do not let them in. Call the local police.”

“Sir,” the guard sounded terrified. “They said if we call the cops, they’ll burn the estate to the ground with everyone inside.”

Marco hung up, his eyes meeting mine. The fierce, protective fire was back.

“We need to get your father,” Marco said, rushing into the dining room.

I followed him. The family was still laughing, unaware of the impending danger.

I ran to my father’s side. “Dad, we need to go. Right now.”

My father looked at me, confused. “But I haven’t finished my coffee, sweetheart.”

“I know, Dad, but it’s an emergency,” I said, gently pulling him to his feet.

Marco grabbed Dominic’s shoulder. “Get everyone into the basement vault. Now. Lock the iron door and don’t open it until I come get you.”

Dominic didn’t ask questions. He saw the look in his brother’s eyes and immediately started ushering the aunts, uncles, and cousins down the narrow stairs.

“Marco,” I panicked. “Russo is at the estate. He knows we aren’t there.”

“He knows my mother and I live there,” Marco corrected. “But he doesn’t know we’re in Brooklyn.”

“He will soon,” Maria said, walking out of the kitchen with her heavy winter coat. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, ornate wooden box.

“What is that?” Marco asked.

Maria opened the box. Resting on a bed of velvet was a stunning, antique jade necklace.

I recognized it instantly. It was the only photograph I had of my mother—she was wearing this exact necklace.

“My mother’s necklace,” I whispered. “Why do you have it?”

“Because she left it with me the night she went to Chicago,” Maria said softly. “She told me that if Russo ever came looking for the debt, I was to give this to you. She said it was the only thing that would stop him.”

I took the necklace. It was heavy, the jade cool against my skin.

“How can a necklace stop a mob boss?” Marco asked skeptically.

“Because of what’s engraved on the back,” Maria said.

I flipped the jade pendant over. Carved into the gold backing were Italian words I didn’t understand.

Marco read them over my shoulder. His breath hitched.

“It’s a promise of immunity,” Marco translated, stunned. “Signed by the head of the Commission in Sicily. It grants the bearer absolute protection from any family.”

“Your mother didn’t just make a deal with Russo,” Maria smiled proudly. “She went over his head. She bought your father’s life.”

“Then why is Russo here now?” I asked.

“Because he thinks William is defenseless,” Marco said, pulling his car keys from his pocket. “He thinks the protection died with your mother.”

Marco looked at me. “Put the necklace on, Lily.”

I clasped the cool gold chain around my neck.

“Let’s go show him he’s wrong,” Marco said.

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