TAKE OFF THAT UNIFORM AND GIVE IT TO HER! SHE'S THE ONE WHO DESERVES YOUR JOB!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD MAID IN FRONT OF FORTY DINNER GUESTS

I ran.

My feet pounded against the servant stairs, my breath tearing through my chest. The mansion, usually a quiet sanctuary of wealth and order, now felt like a ticking bomb.

I burst into the kitchen. Maria was sitting on the floor with Leo, shielding him behind the massive marble island. She had armed herself with a heavy cast-iron skillet, her eyes wide with terror.

"Emily!" she gasped. "The alarms tripped. Someone disabled the security cameras!"

"It's the guests," I panted, dropping to my knees beside them. I grabbed Leo’s small hand. "We have to go. Now. To the carriage house."

"No," Leo whimpered, planting his feet. "My mommy is upstairs. I can't leave her again!"

"I will go get your mommy, I promise," I said, looking into his terrified eyes. "But you have to go with Maria first. She's going to keep you safe."

I quickly unlatched the hidden servant door behind the pantry—a feature Luca had installed years ago for emergencies. Maria scooped Leo into her arms, whispering a prayer as she vanished into the dark, narrow tunnel.

The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the first gunshot rang out.

It came from the front of the house. The dining room.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I turned and ran toward the main staircase, taking the steps two at a time. I reached the master suite and hammered on the door.

"Natalie! It's Emily, let me in!"

The heavy door swung open. Natalie pulled me inside and slammed it shut, sliding the heavy deadbolt into place.

Caroline was sitting up on the bed, wrapped in thick blankets. She looked slightly better—the dirt had been wiped from her face—but she was trembling violently at the sound of the gunfire echoing from downstairs.

"What is happening?" Natalie cried, her hands shaking. "Who is shooting?"

"Vanessa brought the New York Commission," I said, gasping for air. "They’re trying to take over Luca’s territory. He’s fighting them downstairs. He told us to barricade the door."

Caroline let out a devastated sob. "She planned this. Vanessa told me... she told me tonight was the night she would burn everything to the ground."

Natalie grabbed a heavy oak chair and shoved it under the doorknob. "We need a weapon. Is there a gun in here?"

I frantically opened the bedside drawers, but they were empty. Luca always kept his weapons in his office or on his person.

"There's nothing," I panicked.

Then, Caroline shifted on the bed. She pulled her sleeve up, revealing a thick, heavy silver bracelet locked tightly around her left wrist. It didn't look like jewelry. It looked like a shackle.

"Vanessa put this on me six years ago," Caroline whispered, her voice raspy. "She said it was a tracking device. If I ever ran, she would find me and kill Leo."

"We need to get it off you," Natalie said, rushing over and examining the thick metal. "There’s no keyhole. It's fused shut."

Caroline shook her head. "It's not just a tracker. Two days ago, when she moved me to the greenhouse, she was angry. She said she had modified it."

"Modified it how?" I asked, a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

Caroline looked up at me, her blue eyes wide with pure terror. "She said it responds to her heartbeat. If her heart stops, the bracelet injects a lethal dose of digitalis into my bloodstream."

I froze.

Downstairs in the office, Luca had left Vanessa tied to a chair.

But Vanessa was a psychopath who had orchestrated a mafia takeover. If she somehow provoked the New York Commission into killing her, or if she found a way to kill herself to ensure she took Caroline down with her...

"Oh my god," Natalie breathed, realizing it too. "She tied her own life to yours."

Suddenly, the gunfire downstairs stopped.

The silence that followed was entirely worse. It was thick, heavy, and terrifying.

Footsteps echoed on the grand staircase. Heavy, deliberate, boots hitting the marble steps.

It wasn't Luca. Luca moved silently.

"Someone is coming," I whispered, backing away from the door.

Natalie grabbed a heavy brass lamp from the bedside table, raising it like a baseball bat. I grabbed the fireplace poker. We stood in front of the bed, shielding Caroline.

A shadow passed under the crack of the door.

Then, a voice called out from the hallway. It was smooth, arrogant, and thick with a New York accent.

"Ladies," the man said, knocking lightly on the wood. "We have a bit of a situation downstairs. Luca Moretti fought well, but unfortunately, he is currently bleeding out on his expensive dining room rug."

Caroline let out a strangled cry, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Now," the man continued. "Open the door. Or we blow the hinges off and kill everyone inside."

"Don't open it," Caroline whispered frantically.

"We won't," I said, gripping the iron poker so tight my hands ached.

"Suit yourselves," the man chuckled.

We heard the heavy thud of an explosive charge being pressed against the wood.

Natalie looked at me, tears in her eyes. "Emily, I'm so sorry I brought you into this."

"You didn't," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "I chose to stay."

"Three," the man outside counted.

"Two."

I raised the iron poker, bracing for the explosion.

"One."

But the explosion never came.

Instead, a wet, sickening thud echoed in the hallway, followed by the sound of a heavy body collapsing against our door.

We stood frozen.

"Natalie," a voice rasped from the other side of the door.

It wasn't the New York mobster.

It was Luca.

He sounded exhausted, in pain, but alive.

Natalie rushed forward, kicking the chair away and throwing open the deadbolt.

Luca stood in the doorway. His white shirt was soaked in blood, a nasty cut opened across his forehead, and his breathing was ragged. Behind him, the New York mobster lay motionless on the floor.

"Luca!" Caroline cried, trying to stand, but she was too weak.

Luca dropped his gun and stumbled into the room, falling onto the bed and pulling Caroline into his arms. He buried his bloody face in her hair. "I got them," he choked out. "The Commission is done. My men are clearing the rest of the house."

"Luca, you're bleeding," Caroline cried, pressing her hands against his chest.

"I'm fine. It's over," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"It's not over!" I yelled, stepping forward. I pointed at Caroline's wrist. "The bracelet! If Vanessa dies, it injects Caroline with poison!"

Luca’s head snapped toward me. He looked down at the heavy silver shackle on his wife’s wrist.

"Where is Vanessa?" Natalie asked in a panic.