**“STOP WAVING YOUR HANDS! YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE WHISPERED TO HIS DEAF NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER DURING THEIR ENGAGEMENT DINNER

"Where are you?" I demanded, my voice shaking with a mixture of terror and rage.

"The old shipping yard on Pier 4," Vanessa said smoothly. "Bring the girl. Bring the custody papers. And Luca comes alone with you. If I see more than one car, I drop the deaf boy in the river."

The line went dead.

I looked at Luca. He had heard enough of the conversation to know what was happening.

"Pier 4," I whispered.

Luca stood up, lifting Isabella into his arms. She clung to him like a lifeline.

"Marco," Luca barked as we jogged back toward the mansion. "Prep the armored SUV. Just one. No escort."

"Boss, you can't go in blind," Marco protested. "It's a trap. Falcone will have fifty men waiting."

"I don't care if he has five hundred," Luca snarled. "He wants his daughter, and he has Claire's brother. We end this tonight."

Inside the house, Luca carried Isabella to the hidden safe in his study. He spun the dial, pulled open the heavy steel door, and reached inside.

He pulled out two things.

A stack of legal documents—the original adoption papers he had forged nine years ago.

And a heavy black case containing a scoped assault rifle.

He turned to me. "Claire, listen to me very carefully. You are going to drive. When we get to the pier, you keep the engine running. You do not unlock the doors until I have your brother."

"What about Isabella?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Are you really going to trade her?"

Luca stopped loading a magazine and looked at me. His eyes were darker than midnight.

"I am going to burn the pier to the water before I let them touch either of these children."

He crouched down in front of Isabella.

Peanut, he signed. You are going to stay in the car with Claire. You must keep your head down. Do not look out the window. Do you understand?

She nodded, her lip trembling.

I love you, he signed.

I love you, Daddy, she signed back.

We piled into the massive black SUV. I sat in the driver's seat, my hands gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles were white. Luca sat in the passenger seat, a loaded Glock on his lap and the rifle resting by the door. Isabella was strapped into the back, hiding beneath a heavy wool blanket.

The drive to Pier 4 took twenty agonizing minutes.

The shipping yard was desolate, a graveyard of rusted containers and broken streetlights. A thick fog rolled off the dark water of Lake Michigan.

As we pulled through the chain-link gates, a pair of headlights flashed at the far end of the pier.

"Stop here," Luca ordered.

I slammed on the brakes. We were fifty yards away from a black town car.

Several men stepped out of the shadows, assault rifles resting against their chests.

Then, Vanessa stepped out of the town car. She was wearing a heavy white coat, looking entirely out of place in the grimy shipyard.

Behind her stepped Victor Falcone.

He was older than Luca, with graying hair and a cruel, sharp face. He held a small figure by the collar of his jacket.

Tommy.

"Tommy!" I screamed, hitting the window glass.

My little brother looked terrified. He was crying, his small hands frantically signing Help me, Claire! Help!

"Keep the doors locked," Luca commanded, his voice deadly calm.

He opened his door and stepped out into the freezing fog, leaving the rifle behind and walking with only the forged papers in one hand.

He walked halfway across the empty tarmac and stopped.

"Victor," Luca called out, his voice echoing off the metal containers.

"Luca," Victor smiled thinly. "You've taken good care of my property for the last nine years. But it's time to return what you stole."

"Let the boy go first," Luca said. "He has nothing to do with this."

"The boy goes when I see my daughter," Victor replied.

Vanessa stepped forward, her eyes scanning the SUV. "Where is she, Luca? If she's not in the car, the boy dies."

Luca held up the stack of papers. "I brought the original forgeries. The ones that prove I hid her. You want to destroy my reputation with the Commission? Here's the proof."

Victor laughed. "I don't care about the Commission. I want my blood."

Victor shoved Tommy forward to one of his guards and pulled a heavy revolver from his coat, aiming it directly at Luca's chest.

"Bring the girl out," Victor ordered. "Now."

Luca didn't flinch. He just reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

It was the tarnished silver locket I had found in Vanessa's room.

He held it up by the chain, the silver hawk crest catching the dim light.