**“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

The wind howled off the lake, whipping the fog around Luca’s legs.

Victor Falcone stared at the silver locket dangling from Luca’s fingers. The older boss’s face lost all its color.

"Where did you get that?" Victor demanded, his voice dropping its arrogant drawl.

"Your fiancée left it in my guest room," Luca said, his eyes flicking to Vanessa.

Vanessa stepped back, her composure slipping. "I didn't... I don't know what that is."

"Don't lie, Vanessa," Luca sneered. "We both know exactly what it is. And more importantly, Victor knows."

Inside the SUV, I watched with bated breath, my hand hovering over the door lock button. I kept glancing back at Isabella. She was peeking out from under the blanket, watching her father through the windshield.

"It's Elena's," Victor muttered, his gun arm trembling slightly. "It was lost in the crash."

"It wasn't lost," Luca said loudly, ensuring every guard on the pier heard him. "It was taken. By the man who ran her off the road."

Luca tossed the locket onto the wet pavement between them.

"Open it, Victor," Luca commanded.

Victor hesitated, then gestured for one of his men to pick it up. The guard retrieved it, popped the clasp, and handed it to his boss.

Victor looked inside.

"It's a picture of Elena and the baby," Luca said. "But look behind the picture, Victor. Pop the backing out."

Victor frowned, using his thumb to pry the small, faded photograph loose. A tiny folded piece of paper fell into his palm.

"What is this?" Victor demanded.

"It's a note," Luca said softly. "Written by Elena the night she died. She knew she was being followed. She knew she might not make it."

Victor unfolded the tiny paper. As he read it, his face contorted in absolute rage.

He whipped his head around and glared at Vanessa.

Vanessa backed up against the town car, her hands raised. "Victor, I swear, I don't know what it says!"

"It says," Luca projected his voice, "that she recognized the car following her. She recognized the driver. It wasn't my men, Victor. And it wasn't yours."

Luca pointed straight at Vanessa.

"It was her father's."

A murmur rippled through Victor’s guards.

"Your trusted underboss, Vanessa's father, wanted the Falcone seat," Luca explained. "He ran Elena off the road, hoping the grief would make you weak. He took the locket as a trophy. He passed it down to his ambitious daughter, who thought she could use Isabella to secure her own power by playing both sides."

Victor grabbed Vanessa by the throat, slamming her against the car. "Is this true?!" he roared.

"No!" Vanessa screamed, clawing at his hand. "He's lying! He forged it!"

"Check the handwriting, Victor!" Luca yelled. "You know your dead wife's script! She played you. She planted herself in my house to steal Isabella, only so she could hand her over to you and look like a hero. But she’s the reason Elena is dead."

Chaos erupted.

Victor’s men lowered their weapons, unsure of who to aim at. Victor was screaming in Vanessa's face.

In the confusion, the guard holding Tommy looked back at his boss.

His grip loosened for just a fraction of a second.

Tommy stomped hard on the man's foot, twisted out of his jacket, and ran.

He didn't run toward the water. He ran straight toward our SUV.

Claire! he signed frantically as he sprinted.

I slammed my hand on the unlock button and threw my door open. "Tommy! Here!"

The guard recovered and raised his gun toward Tommy’s back.

A deafening roar ripped through the air.

Luca had drawn his Glock in a blindingly fast motion and fired twice. The guard dropped instantly.

"GO!" Luca screamed, diving behind a concrete barrier as gunfire erupted from the remaining Falcone men.

Tommy dove into the front seat of the SUV. I grabbed his shirt, dragging him over the center console and into the back with Isabella, instantly covering them both with the heavy wool blanket.

Bullets pinged off the armored glass of the SUV.

I threw the car in reverse, tires screeching, sliding us behind a massive steel shipping container to shield us from the crossfire.

Through the chaos, I watched Victor Falcone shove Vanessa to the ground. He didn't even look at Luca. He was consumed by betrayal.

"You killed my wife," Victor hissed at Vanessa, raising his revolver.

Vanessa screamed.

Then, police sirens wailed in the distance. Dozens of them.

Luca hadn't just come to fight. He had called the Feds, knowing Victor’s men were heavily armed and exposed.

Victor looked at the flashing blue lights approaching from the city, then back at Luca.

"This isn't over, Moretti!" Victor shouted, before jumping into a secondary vehicle and speeding away, leaving Vanessa sobbing on the pavement as the FBI swarmed the pier.

Luca walked slowly back to the SUV, his gun lowered.

I unlocked the doors.

He opened the back door, his chest heaving.

Beneath the blanket, two little heads peeked out.