“SHUT HER UP, YOU STUPID LITTLE MAID! SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE’S SAYING!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD HOUSEKEEPER FOR LISTENING TO HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER SPEAK ITALIAN AT DINNER

Chapter 5 – The Red Silk Scarf

Luca stared at the red silk scarf.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t throw anything. He just went completely, terrifyingly still.

“They took my mother,” he said, his voice void of all emotion.

Marco stepped into the room, his face pale. “How did they get past your security? The perimeter was locked down.”

“Because security let them in,” Luca said. He turned around slowly.

Standing in the doorway was Carlo, Luca’s head of security, flanked by three armed guards.

Carlo, a man who had worked for the Moretti family for twenty years, raised his gun and pointed it directly at Luca’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Boss,” Carlo said, though he didn’t look sorry at all. “Arthur offered me a retirement package I couldn’t refuse.”

I backed into the corner, pushing Isabella behind my skirt. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely feel my fingers.

“You let Vanessa into my house,” Luca said, taking a step toward Carlo.

“Arthur gave the order. He wants the diary, Luca. Hand it over, and maybe he lets the old lady live.”

Luca held the leather-bound book in his left hand.

“If I give you this, Arthur will kill my mother and my wife anyway.”

Carlo shrugged. “Probably. But if you don’t give it to me, I’ll shoot you right here, and then I’ll take it.”

Carlo’s eyes flicked to me. “And I’ll have to clean up the maid and the kid, too.”

Isabella whimpered.

That sound—that tiny, terrified sound from his daughter—did something to Luca.

In a fraction of a second, Luca moved.

He didn’t reach for a gun. He reached into his coat pocket and threw something hard and heavy directly into Carlo’s face.

It was Arthur Bellini’s gold watch.

The heavy metal struck Carlo square in the bridge of the nose. He stumbled backward, his gun firing blindly into the ceiling. Plaster rained down on us.

Before the other guards could react, Marco tackled the nearest man to the floor.

Luca closed the distance in two strides, grabbing Carlo by the throat and slamming him against the mahogany doorframe.

“Where is Arthur keeping them?” Luca roared, pinning the traitor to the wall.

Carlo spat blood onto the carpet. “Go to hell.”

Luca pressed his forearm against Carlo’s windpipe. “I’m already there. Give me the address.”

“The old shipyard,” Carlo choked out, his face turning purple. “Pier 44.”

Luca dropped him. Carlo collapsed, gasping for air.

Luca turned to me. “Emily. Take Isabella to the panic room behind my office. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”

I nodded, scooping Isabella into my arms.

“Luca,” I said, my voice trembling. “Please bring them back.”

He looked at me, and the coldness in his eyes softened for just a second. “I promise.”

He and Marco ran down the stairs, guns drawn.

I rushed Isabella down the hall toward the master office. I pushed the heavy bookcase aside, revealing the steel door of the panic room. I punched in the code Luca had given me weeks ago in case of emergencies.

The heavy door swung open.

I carried Isabella inside and hit the lock button. The bolts slammed into place.

It was dark, lit only by a dim emergency light.

I set Isabella down on the small cot. She was crying, clutching the small silver swallow pendant Marco had left on the dining table.

“It’s okay, Bella,” I whispered, hugging her tightly. “Daddy is going to fix this.”

Then, my phone buzzed again.

I pulled it out, my heart pounding.

Another text from the unknown number.

You locked yourself in, Emily. Just like I wanted.

Suddenly, the emergency lights flickered and died.

And from the dark corner of the panic room, a voice whispered.

“Hello, little bird.”

A match flared to life.

Standing in the corner of the impenetrable steel room was Vanessa Bellini.

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