THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME CRAWL UNDER HIS ENGAGEMENT TABLE TO FIND HIS TEN-YEAR-OLD SON’S WHITE CANE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “HE THREW IT AWAY BECAUSE HE WANTED ATTENTION,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE BLIND LITTLE BOY WAS ON HIS KNEES, CRYING AND BEGGING ME NOT TO MAKE HIM WALK ALONE AGAIN

Chapter 10 – THE EMPTY GRAVE

I practically ran back to the house, my fist closed tightly around the silver key.

I found Luca in his study, going over security protocols for the luncheon.

“Luca,” I gasped, shutting the heavy oak doors behind me.

He looked up, instantly reading the panic on my face.

He dropped his pen and crossed the room in three strides.

“What is it? Is it Noah?”

“Noah is fine,” I said quickly. “He’s on the patio.”

I opened my hand, revealing the silver key.

Luca frowned. “A music box key? Where did you get this?”

“A woman,” I swallowed hard. “At the front gate. She was watching Noah.”

Luca’s expression hardened immediately. “Did security stop her?”

“She drove off in a black sedan before they could. Luca, she said something. She told me to tell Noah his mother says happy birthday.”

Luca froze.

The color drained from his face.

“What?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” I said, my voice trembling. “But she threw this key through the gate. It’s exactly like the one Caroline had.”

Luca took the key from my hand.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then, he walked to his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer, and pulled out a small wooden box.

He opened it.

Inside was Caroline’s old porcelain music box.

It was missing its winding key.

Luca slowly inserted the silver key I had just given him into the slot on the back of the box.

It fit perfectly.

He turned it.

The familiar, haunting melody filled the quiet study.

“She’s dead,” Luca whispered, staring at the turning ballerina. “I saw her in the hospital. I saw her stop breathing.”

“Could Diane have faked the death?” I asked, my mind racing. “She was the nurse. She poisoned Noah. What if she gave Caroline something that only mimicked death?”

Luca’s eyes snapped up to mine.

They were dark, dangerous, and suddenly filled with a terrifying hope.

“We need to know for sure,” Luca said.

Three hours later, we stood in the private Moretti family cemetery on the outskirts of Chicago.

It was raining again, a cold drizzle that soaked through my coat.

Luca hadn’t called the police. He had called his most trusted men.

Four of them were currently using shovels to dig up the grave marked Caroline Moretti. Beloved Wife and Mother.

I held an umbrella over Luca, but he didn’t seem to notice the rain.

He was staring at the muddy earth, his jaw clenched tight.

“Boss,” the head of security called out from the hole. “We hit the vault.”

“Open it,” Luca commanded.

They used heavy crowbars to crack the concrete seal.

Then, they unlatched the heavy bronze casket.

I held my breath, gripping Luca’s arm.

If Caroline was inside… I didn’t want to look.

One of the men pushed the lid open.

He looked inside.

He slowly looked up at Luca.

“Boss.”

“Say it,” Luca ordered.

“It’s empty.”

My knees weakened.

The casket was lined with white silk, but there was no body.

Instead, resting in the center of the silk cushion, was a single, fresh white rose.

And a note.

Luca jumped down into the grave.

He picked up the note.

I watched him read it, his broad shoulders tensing.

He climbed back out and handed the note to me.

The handwriting was the exact same elegant cursive I had seen on the forged admissions papers.

They threatened to kill him if I didn’t disappear. I had to leave to keep you both alive. But the Commission knows the truth now. I’m coming home, Luca.

“She’s alive,” I whispered, the paper trembling in my hands.

Caroline Moretti was alive.

And she was coming back for her husband and her son.

I looked at Luca.

The man I was going to marry.

He was staring at the empty grave, his chest heaving.

The mother of his child was alive. His wife was alive.

Which meant… I was nothing but a placeholder.

“Luca,” I said softly, tears mixing with the rain on my cheeks.

He turned to me.

“Hannah.”

“She’s alive,” I repeated, slipping the diamond ring off my finger.

I held it out to him.

“You need to bring her home.”

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