THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED HIS FIANCÉE RIP A PAGE FROM THEIR ENGAGEMENT GUEST BOOK—THEN SHE SAID, “THAT WOMAN HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR MOTHER,”

Chapter 7 – The Empty Cross

Celeste stared at the hollow silver cross, her hands trembling so violently she almost dropped it.

“Where is it?” she shrieked, looking wildly at me. “Where is the microfilm?”

I was just as confused as she was. I had felt the film inside when I opened it in the study.

Dominic reached into his tuxedo jacket and calmly pulled out a small, rolled-up piece of black film. He held it between his fingers for everyone to see.

“I took it,” Dominic said. “When Thomas was threatening Anna, he was so focused on the gun that he didn’t realize I palmed the film before I told Anna to hand over the rosary. A cheap sleight of hand. But greed makes people blind.”

Thomas Arden slumped against the wall, defeated. The guests in the hallway were whispering frantically, cell phones already out, recording the downfall of the prestigious Arden family.

“You have nothing,” Thomas muttered to Dominic. “The statute of limitations on that crash is over. You can’t prove I killed your father.”

“I don’t need the police, Thomas,” Dominic replied, his voice laced with the cold authority of a Mafia boss. “I have the ledger. And I’m going to send it to the IRS, the FBI, and every criminal syndicate you’ve ever crossed. By tomorrow morning, you won’t have a penny to your name, and you’ll spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”

Michael and the security team stepped forward, securing Thomas and a hysterical Celeste.

“Dominic, please!” Celeste sobbed, her mascara running down her face, ruining her perfect image. “I love you! My father made me do it!”

Dominic didn’t even look at her as his men dragged them out the front doors.

The chaos settled. The guests, realizing the party was over, began to quickly and quietly filter out of the mansion, eager to escape the Falcone family drama.

Soon, the grand hallway was empty, save for me, my father, Eleanor, and Dominic.

My father lowered his revolver, clicking the safety on. He walked toward me, his steps firm and steady. He pulled me into a tight embrace. The smell of his old coat—tobacco and peppermint—was the most comforting thing in the world.

“I’m so sorry I lied to you, Annie,” he whispered into my hair. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

I hugged him back, sobbing into his shoulder. For the first time in nearly a year, the crushing weight of being his sole caretaker lifted from my chest.

Dominic walked over to Eleanor, gently taking her arm. “Come, Eleanor. You must be exhausted.”

He led us back into the warm study. But as Dominic poured a glass of water for Eleanor, his eyes caught the light reflecting off a small, gold bracelet resting on his desk. It belonged to Celeste.

Dominic picked it up, his expression hardening. He turned to my father.

“Mr. Reed,” Dominic said quietly. “If you’ve been faking your condition for six months… why did you suddenly decide to reveal yourself tonight?”

My father sighed heavily. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, ultrasound photograph.

“Because of this,” my father said, placing it on the desk. “Anna doesn’t know. But Celeste isn’t just trying to steal your empire, Dominic. She’s pregnant.”

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