THE SILVER KEY

"She's telling Marco's loyal men where we are," Roberto said, his voice tight. He immediately began typing on the security console, locking down the metal shutters over the library windows.

"Uncle Roberto, I'm scared," Isabella whimpered.

"I know, piccola," Roberto said gently in Italian. "But you are safe here. These walls are reinforced steel."

I stared at the monitor showing Sarah running toward the servant's exit. "She's getting away with the proof. If she destroys those ledgers, Arturo could deny the full extent of the blackmail. Luca won't have the evidence he needs to take them down legally."

I looked at the heavy steel door of the panic room. Then I looked at Roberto.

"I know the servant's corridors better than anyone," I said. "There's a shortcut to the loading dock. I can cut her off."

"Emily, no, absolutely not," Roberto commanded. "It's too dangerous. Luca said to stay here."

"If Sarah escapes, Isabella will never truly be safe from the Bellinis," I argued, grabbing a heavy brass flashlight from the emergency supply kit on the wall. "Lock the door behind me."

Before Roberto could stop me, I hit the release button. The heavy door hissed open. I slipped out into the library and bolted toward the servant's quarters.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I practically flew down the narrow, uncarpeted stairs meant only for staff. I knew every squeaky floorboard, every blind corner.

I reached the ground floor kitchen. It was empty, the dinner catering staff having fled after Luca's orders.

I sprinted through the swinging doors toward the loading dock.

Just as I pushed the heavy exit door open into the cool Chicago night, I saw Sarah. She was fumbling with her car keys near an old sedan parked by the dumpsters, the leather satchel clutched to her chest.

"Sarah! Stop!" I yelled.

She spun around, her eyes wide with panic. "Emily! Mind your own business. You don't know what you're involved in!"

"I know you helped them kill Elena!" I shouted, stepping toward her.

Sarah laughed harshly, a sound devoid of any of the warmth she'd shown me during my training. "Elena was a fool. She started poking around in things that didn't concern her. Arturo paid me triple my salary just to leave doors unlocked and copy a few schedules."

"And tamper with the brakes?" I demanded.

"That was Marco!" she snapped, finally getting her car door open. She threw the satchel into the passenger seat. "I just want my money and my life."

She reached into her pocket, and my blood ran cold as I saw the glint of metal. A small handgun.

She aimed it at me. "Back off, Emily. Go back inside and play mommy to the brat."

I froze, the brass flashlight suddenly feeling very useless in my hand.

Sarah slid into the driver's seat and turned the key. The engine sputtered to life.

She smiled cruelly at me. "Tell Mr. Moretti he's too late."

She threw the car into reverse.

But as she hit the gas, a massive black SUV roared out from the shadows of the driveway, slamming directly into the side of Sarah's sedan with a deafening crunch of metal.

The sedan spun, crashing into the brick wall of the loading dock, completely pinned.

The door of the SUV opened, and Luca Moretti stepped out, his face a mask of absolute fury.

He didn't even look at the wrecked sedan at first. He walked straight toward me, his eyes quickly scanning me for injuries.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded.

"No," I breathed, shaking violently. "The satchel. In her car."

Luca walked over to the crushed sedan. Sarah was slumped over the steering wheel, dazed but conscious. Luca reached through the shattered window, grabbed the heavy leather satchel, and pulled it out.

He looked down at Sarah. "The police are on their way for you and Marco," he said coldly. "Pray they get here before I change my mind and handle this myself."

Luca turned back to me, the satchel in one hand. But before he could speak, his phone rang.

He answered it on speaker.