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.**

The suppressed gunshot thwipped through the air, burying itself into the back of the metal chair, inches from Vanessa’s head.

Vanessa screamed, covering her face.

Luca didn't hesitate. He lunged from the shadows, grabbing the intruder’s gun hand and twisting it brutally upward. The intruder cried out, dropping the weapon as Luca slammed him against the concrete wall, pressing the barrel of his own gun under the man's chin.

I reached blindly for the wall switch and flicked the lights on.

Answer one: The man pinned against the wall wasn't Dominic. It was Mr. Henderson. The manager of the Obsidian Lounge. The man who had assigned me to wait on Luca months ago.

“Henderson?” I breathed, my mind spinning.

Luca stared at the older man, his eyes narrowing in furious confusion. “What the hell are you doing here, Henderson?”

Henderson was trembling, his face flushed with terror. “Dominic sent me! He said if I didn't silence her, he would kill my family!”

“Dominic sent a lounge manager to do a hit?” Luca demanded, pressing the gun harder against Henderson’s jaw.

“I owed him money!” Henderson sobbed. “A lot of money. He’s been using me to clean cash through the lounge for years. He told me to come down here, shoot her, and leave the gun in her hand so it looked like a suicide.”

Open two: If Henderson was working for Dominic, did he orchestrate my initial meeting with Luca on purpose? And why did Dominic trust a civilian with a hit?

“You set me up,” I realized, stepping forward, the anger boiling over. “You forced me to take Luca’s table that night. You knew Vanessa was going to hire me. You were planting me in this house.”

Henderson couldn't meet my eyes. “Dominic knew your husband had taken the invoice. He couldn't find the phone. When Vanessa said she wanted to hire you to keep an eye on you, Dominic told me to make sure you were desperate enough to take the job. He wanted you close so he could watch you too.”

My stomach churned. My entire life for the past eighteen months had been orchestrated by a man who murdered my husband.

Luca lowered his gun slightly, a dark, calculating look crossing his face.

“Dominic didn't come himself because he wanted an alibi,” Luca deduced. “He’s sitting at the club, surrounded by witnesses, while his civilian pawn does the dirty work.”

Luca grabbed Henderson by the collar and shoved him toward the cell door.

“You’re going to call him,” Luca ordered. “You’re going to tell him it’s done.”

“He’ll want proof!” Henderson panicked.

“I’ll give him proof,” Luca said coldly.

He pulled out his encrypted phone and snapped a quick, blurry photo of Vanessa lying on the floor in the dark, her eyes closed, looking convincingly dead.

He handed Henderson his phone. “Send it. Tell him to meet you at the old shipyard in an hour to pay off your debt.”

Henderson’s hands shook as he sent the message. A moment later, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Done. See you at the docks.

Luca took Henderson’s phone and smashed it under his heel.

“Daniel!” Luca yelled into the hallway.

The security chief appeared a moment later.

“Lock these two in the vault,” Luca pointed at Vanessa and Henderson. “If either of them makes a sound, shoot them.”

Luca turned to me as Daniel hauled them away.

“I’m going to the shipyard,” Luca said, his voice devoid of all emotion. He was slipping back into the ruthless mafia boss he had been born to be.

“I’m coming with you,” I said instantly.

“No, Rachel,” Luca said firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This isn't a game. Dominic is going to show up with his own men to kill Henderson. It’s going to be a bloodbath.”

“He murdered my husband, Luca,” I said, looking up into his eyes with fierce determination. “I didn't get to say goodbye to Daniel. I am not going to sit in a basement while the man who ordered his death gets away.”

Luca stared at me. He saw the iron in my spine, the same resilience that had kept me alive for the past eighteen months.

He didn't argue. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, heavy revolver, placing it in my hand.

“Keep the safety on until you need it,” Luca said softly.

We drove to the old shipyard in silence. The fog was rolling in off Lake Michigan, wrapping the rusting cargo containers in a thick, gray blanket.

Luca parked the armored SUV two blocks away. We moved on foot, flanked by six of Luca’s most elite, loyal guards.

We reached Warehouse 4, the designated meeting spot.

“Stay behind me,” Luca whispered, pushing the heavy metal door open.

The warehouse was dark and damp, smelling of rust and salt water.

In the center of the room, illuminated by a single overhead bulb, stood Dominic. He was checking his watch, looking annoyed. Two heavily armed soldiers stood behind him.

Luca stepped out of the shadows, his shotgun raised.

“Looking for someone, Dom?” Luca called out, his voice echoing off the metal walls.

Dominic froze. He looked at Luca, then at the guards surrounding the exits.

He realized instantly that he was trapped.

But Dominic didn't panic. He smiled.

“I always knew Henderson was an idiot,” Dominic sighed, lowering his hands. “I suppose Vanessa sang like a bird?”

“She didn't have to,” Luca said, pulling the tiny micro-SD card from his pocket and holding it up. “Daniel Morgan left a parting gift.”

Dominic’s smile vanished.

“You killed my brother for fifty thousand dollars,” Luca roared, the grief finally breaking through his composed exterior.

“I killed your brother because he was weak!” Dominic yelled back, his true nature finally showing. “He wanted to take the family legitimate! He wanted to sell the shipping routes! We would have been laughingstocks!”

“So you destroyed my family to save your ego,” Luca said, racking the shotgun.

“I protected the syndicate!” Dominic spat. He looked at me, standing behind Luca. “And you brought the grieving widow to watch? How pathetic.”

Dominic’s hand twitched toward his coat.

“Don't do it, Dom,” Luca warned.

But Dominic wasn't reaching for a gun.

He pulled out a small, black detonator switch and pressed his thumb firmly onto the red button.