TAKE OFF THAT WEDDING RING! YOUR HUSBAND IS DEAD, AND NOBODY HERE WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT HIM!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED THE YOUNG HOUSEMAID IN FRONT OF FORTY GUESTS—BUT WHEN LUCA MORETTI HEARD HER WHISPER, “I NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE,” HE ASKED HIS FIANCÉE ONE QUESTION THAT MADE HER STOP SMILING.

Chapter 7 – THE TUNNEL IN THE DARK

The sound was apocalyptic.

A deafening, concussive roar ripped through the air above us. The elevator shaft shook violently, raining dust, concrete shards, and burning debris down onto the roof of the metal cage.

Answer one: The C4 detonated perfectly, collapsing the warehouse roof exactly as Dominic planned.

But Luca’s split-second decision had saved us. The massive concrete foundation of the sub-level absorbed the shockwave, protecting the elevator car from being crushed.

We lay in absolute darkness, coughing on the thick, choking dust.

“Rachel,” Luca’s voice was hoarse, his heavy hands frantically checking my arms and face in the pitch black. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” I wheezed, sitting up slowly. My ribs ached from the impact, but nothing felt broken. “I’m okay.”

Flashlights clicked on around us. Luca’s six guards were bruised and bloodied, but all of them were alive.

“Boss,” one of the guards coughed, shining his light up the shaft. “The warehouse collapsed completely. The shaft is blocked by tons of concrete. We can’t go up.”

Luca stood up, dusting off his ruined suit jacket. He didn’t look defeated. He looked furious.

“We aren’t going up,” Luca said, turning his flashlight toward the rusted iron gate at the front of the elevator. “We’re going out.”

He kicked the heavy gate open. It protested loudly but gave way, revealing a dark, damp tunnel stretching into the abyss.

“These are the old Prohibition smuggling tunnels,” Luca explained, leading the way. “My grandfather used them to move liquor from the docks to the city. They connect to the main sewer lines three miles west.”

Open two: If Dominic thinks Luca is dead, he will immediately move to seize the syndicate. How can we get out in time to stop him from taking over the family?

We moved silently through the freezing, ankle-deep water. The tunnel smelled of rot and stagnant decay. Rats scurried away from our flashlight beams.

“Dominic is going to call an emergency meeting of the council,” Luca said as we walked, his voice echoing off the brick walls. “He’ll tell them I was killed in a rival hit. He’ll use the chaos to step in as the acting boss.”

“He has the majority of the capos in his pocket,” a guard warned. “If he sits in your chair, Boss, they’ll swear loyalty to him before the sun comes up.”

“Then we have to make sure he never sits in that chair,” Luca said grimly.

We walked for two agonizing hours. My legs burned, and my lungs ached from the damp air, but I didn’t stop. I pictured Daniel’s face. I pictured the man who ordered his death sitting comfortably in a leather chair.

Finally, the tunnel ended at a rusted iron ladder leading up to a heavy manhole cover.

“Help me push,” Luca told two of his men.

They strained against the heavy iron cover. With a groan of grinding metal, it lifted, flipping over onto the pavement above.

We climbed out into the freezing Chicago night.

We were in an alley behind a deserted strip mall on the West Side, miles away from the smoking crater of the shipyard.

Luca pulled a burner phone from his pocket. The screen was cracked, but it still worked.

He dialed a number.

“Marcus,” Luca spoke quietly when the line connected.

“Boss?!” Marcus’s voice crackled through the speaker, thick with disbelief and panic. “We saw the explosion on the news! The shipyard is gone! We thought you were dead!”

“I’m not dead,” Luca said coldly. “Where is Dominic?”

“He just arrived at the estate,” Marcus reported rapidly. “He called a mandatory assembly of the capos in the grand dining room. He told everyone you were killed in a New York syndicate ambush. He’s claiming the seat.”

“Are my loyal men still armed?” Luca asked.

“Yes, Boss,” Marcus said. “But Dominic brought twenty of his own soldiers. It’s a powder keg.”

“Lock down the estate,” Luca ordered. “Do not let Dominic leave. I’m ten minutes away.”

Luca hung up. He looked at me, his dark eyes intense and unyielding.

“This is where you stay, Rachel,” Luca said, pointing to a nearby twenty-four-hour diner. “Wait inside. I’ll send a car for you when it’s over.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head fiercely.

“Rachel, there is going to be a bloodbath,” Luca warned, stepping closer. “Dominic won’t go quietly.”

“He killed my husband, Luca,” I said, my voice trembling but absolute. “He stole my life. I am going to watch you take his.”

Luca stared down at me. He saw the fire in my eyes, the same fire that had refused to back down to Vanessa at the dinner table.

He didn’t argue. He just nodded once.

“Then let’s go home,” Luca said.

TITLE: THE EMPTY CHAIR

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