THE NAME WRITTEN IN BLUE INK

Luca stared at the final line of his wife’s letter.

The blue ink had faded slightly over two years, but the name written there seemed to burn into the paper.

Marcus Romano.

Marco Santori, Luca’s oldest friend and head of security, stepped closer to the desk.

He saw the color drain from Luca’s face.

“Boss,” Marco said softly. “What does it say?”

Luca didn't hand him the letter.

His hands were shaking too hard.

“Isabella wrote that Caroline knows about the night Sophie was born,” Luca whispered.

“That doesn't make sense. Caroline was living in New York back then.”

“Isabella says Caroline was connected to Marcus.”

Marco froze.

Marcus Romano had been their most trusted captain.

Six years ago, on the night Isabella went into early labor, a rival family had allegedly ambushed her car on the way to the hospital.

Marcus had died in the driver’s seat.

His sacrifice had supposedly bought Isabella enough time to escape on foot and flag down a passing ambulance.

Luca had ordered a brutal retaliation against the rival family.

He had paid for Marcus’s funeral.

He had taken care of Marcus’s widow financially for years.

“Marcus died protecting her,” Marco said, his voice tightening.

Luca looked up.

His dark eyes were entirely hollow.

“No, Marco. Read it.”

He handed the final page to his friend.

Marco read the elegant handwriting.

His jaw locked.

My darling Luca, Marcus didn't die protecting me. He drove me to an abandoned warehouse, not the hospital. He was trying to take our baby. I grabbed the gun from his glovebox. I shot him, Luca. I killed him to save Sophie. And Caroline was the woman waiting in the warehouse to take her.

The study went completely silent.

The grandfather clock in the corner ticked heavily.

Emily stood by the doorway, her hands clasped tightly together.

She had only been a housekeeper for six months, but she knew the rules of the Moretti family.

You didn't ask questions.

You didn't speak unless spoken to.

But she looked at Sophie, sitting on the leather sofa, clutching her stuffed rabbit.

“Mr. Moretti,” Emily said quietly.

Luca turned toward her.

He didn't look like a grieving husband anymore.

He looked like a man preparing for a war.

“What is it, Emily?”

“When Caroline was tearing apart the wooden chest... she wasn't just looking for the letter.”

Marco stepped forward.

“How do you know?”

“Because she kept cursing,” Emily explained. “She said, ‘Where is the silver rosary? She promised she hid it here.’”

Marco and Luca exchanged a sharp look.

“The silver rosary,” Luca repeated.

“Yes, sir. Does that mean something?”

Luca slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“When the police found Marcus’s body in the car, his hands were wrapped in a silver rosary. We thought he died praying.”

Marco’s voice dropped to a terrifying whisper.

“If Isabella shot him... she placed it there.”

“To make it look like a mob hit,” Luca realized. “To stop me from asking questions. To stop me from finding out the truth and putting myself in danger.”

Emily swallowed hard.

“Why would Caroline want the rosary now?”

Marco answered.

“Because silver holds fingerprints, Emily. If Caroline was in that warehouse, she might have handled it. If we ever tested it, we'd place her at the scene of the crime.”

Luca turned to Marco.

“Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. Not the staff. Not the guards.”

“And Caroline?”

“Bring her to me.”

Before Marco could move, the heavy oak doors of the study swung open.

Caroline Whitmore stepped inside.

She was no longer wearing the elegant ivory dress.

She wore dark slacks, a heavy coat, and carried a leather designer bag over her shoulder.

And in her right hand, she held a suppressed 9mm pistol.

She didn't point it at Luca.

She pointed it directly at Emily.

“You couldn't just change the sheets, could you?” Caroline sneered.

Luca didn't reach for his weapon.

He placed himself entirely between Caroline and his daughter.

“Put the gun down, Caroline.”

Caroline laughed.

A bitter, harsh sound.

“Or what, Luca? You'll have Marco shoot me? I’m Marcus Romano’s sister. I know exactly how you operate.”

Emily gasped.

Caroline wasn't a random woman he had met at a charity gala.

She was Marcus’s sister.

She had changed her last name.

She had orchestrated the entire romance.

“You’ve been playing a long game,” Luca said, his voice deadly calm.

“Isabella took my brother from me,” Caroline said, her hand trembling slightly on the grip of the gun. “She took the money he was supposed to get for delivering the baby. And then she lived in luxury while I had to scrape by.”

“So you decided to take her place.”

“I took what was owed to my family.”

Caroline gestured with the gun toward Emily.

“Give me the letter, maid. Now.”

Emily looked at Luca.

Then she looked at Caroline.

“I don't have it.”

Caroline pulled back the hammer.

“I’m not asking again.”

Suddenly, Sophie stood up on the sofa.

“Caroline, stop it!” the little girl cried.

Caroline’s eyes darted to the child.