THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER

We had exactly four minutes.

Luca moved with terrifying precision. He didn't panic. He didn't raise his voice. He slipped the gun into his shoulder holster, grabbed the brass key, and scooped a sleeping Leo out of the bed.

“Grab the coat,” he ordered.

I snatched the heavy navy wool coat from the mattress, ignoring the blinding pain in my ribs.

We hurried down the back servant stairs, avoiding the grand foyer where I could already hear the heavy thud of the front doors being forced open. Men’s voices echoed through the marble hallway—harsh, demanding, and utterly out of place in the elegant mansion.

“Check the bedrooms! Find the maid!” a voice shouted. It wasn't Vanessa. It was her older brother, Marcus.

Luca’s jaw clenched. He pushed me through the kitchen and out into the cold Chicago night. The wind bit through my thin server's uniform.

We ran toward the detached garage. Luca bypassed the luxury sedans and stopped at a dusty, unassuming black Chevy Tahoe parked in the very back.

He strapped Leo into the back seat, who was barely waking up, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

“Get in the passenger seat,” Luca told me, tossing me the keys. “Keep your head down.”

As I climbed in, I saw Luca walk toward a small keypad on the garage wall. He punched in a code, and the heavy metal garage doors began to roll open.

But just as they cleared the bumper, the headlights of a black SUV swept across the driveway, illuminating the garage.

They had circled around back.

“Luca!” I screamed.

Marcus Bellini stepped out of the SUV, accompanied by two massive men in tactical gear. He was holding a crowbar. He smiled when he saw Luca.

“Going somewhere, brother-in-law?” Marcus called out, tapping the crowbar against his palm. “Vanessa is very upset. She says you ended the party early.”

Luca didn’t reach for his gun. He just stood in the center of the garage, his hands resting easily by his sides.

“You’re trespassing, Marcus.”

“We’re family,” Marcus corrected, stepping closer. “Or we will be on Saturday. We just need to borrow your little maid for a few hours. We have some paperwork for her to sign.”

“She’s not signing anything.”

“She doesn’t have a choice!” Marcus snapped, losing his smug demeanor. “Our father is ruined, Luca! He leveraged everything on this merger. If we don’t get into old man Moretti’s lockbox by tomorrow morning, we are dead!”

“Then you’re dead,” Luca said coldly.

Marcus lunged.

I screamed, but Luca was faster. He sidestepped the crowbar, grabbed Marcus’s arm, and twisted it violently. A sickening pop echoed through the garage. Marcus dropped to his knees, screaming in agony.

The two armed men raised their weapons, but before they could fire, a red laser sight painted the chest of the man on the left. Then the right.

From the shadows of the garden, Luca’s private security detail emerged—five men, completely silent, heavily armed.

Luca looked down at Marcus, who was sobbing on the concrete.

“Tell Vanessa the wedding is still on,” Luca whispered. “Tell her I expect her at the church on Saturday. But if any of your people come within fifty feet of Kate again, I will burn your father’s house to the ground with you inside it.”

Luca stepped over him, got into the driver’s seat of the Tahoe, and hit the gas.

We sped out of the estate, leaving the Bellini men surrounded in the driveway.

I was trembling so hard my teeth were chattering. I pulled the heavy wool coat tightly around my shoulders. As I adjusted the sleeves, my fingers brushed against something hard stitched into the cuff.

“Luca,” I whispered, feeling the lining. “There’s something inside the sleeve.”

With shaking fingers, I ripped the old seams open.

A delicate, silver charm bracelet fell into my lap.

It was tiny. Meant for a baby.

Engraved on the small silver plate were two words.

Katherine Moretti.

I stared at it, the truth finally crashing down on me. I wasn't just a maid. I was the daughter of the most feared man in Chicago.

And as I looked up, a terrifying realization hit me.

“Luca,” I choked out. “If Dorothy hid this coat… and she knew who I was…”