THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER

The marble floors of the First Chicago Bank echoed with our footsteps.

It was 8:05 AM. The bank wasn't open to the public yet, but the Bellini family owned the branch manager.

Vanessa walked beside me, her heels clicking sharply. She wasn't wearing a wedding dress yet; she wore a sharp white pantsuit. Marcus walked behind me, the muzzle of a silenced pistol pressing discreetly into the small of my back.

“Hurry up,” Marcus muttered.

The bank manager, a sweating, terrified man, led us down a spiral staircase into the subterranean vault. He unlocked the heavy steel gate and stepped aside.

“Box 814,” the manager stammered.

Vanessa practically shoved me toward the wall of steel boxes.

“Do it,” she commanded, her perfectly manicured hands shaking with greed.

I pulled the brass key from my pocket. My hands were trembling violently. I inserted the key into the left slot. The digital scanner beside it blinked red.

I placed my thumb on the glass pad.

The machine beeped. A green light flashed.

Click.

The heavy steel door popped open.

Vanessa pushed me out of the way, practically tearing the metal drawer from the wall. She slammed it down onto the viewing table in the center of the room.

“Finally,” Marcus breathed, stepping forward.

Vanessa threw open the lid of the metal box.

I closed my eyes, waiting for the gunshot. Waiting for it all to end.

But the gunshot never came.

Instead, a horrified, ear-piercing scream echoed off the vault walls.

I opened my eyes.

Vanessa was staring into the box, her face pale as a ghost.

The box wasn't full of money. It wasn't full of gold bars or bearer bonds.

It was filled to the brim with thousands of printed, high-resolution photographs.

Marcus grabbed one, his face contorting in pure terror.

They were surveillance photos. Photos of Marcus meeting with rival cartel bosses. Photos of Vanessa handing bribes to city officials. Photos of their father signing the embezzled documents.

And resting on top of the pile of photos was a single, engraved wedding invitation.

Luca Moretti & Vanessa Bellini.

Request your presence at their wedding.

Vanessa spun around, panicked. “How? How did he—”

Before she could finish, the heavy steel vault door slammed shut with a deafening boom.

The lock clicked.

We were sealed inside.

“No! No!” Marcus screamed, dropping the gun and pounding against the two-foot-thick steel door with his good arm.

The intercom on the wall crackled to life.

Luca’s calm, chilling voice filled the vault.

“Hello, Vanessa.”

Vanessa lunged for the intercom, sobbing. “Luca! Luca, please! We can explain! Open the door!”

“I told you I wanted you at the wedding,” Luca’s voice echoed. “But I didn't say where the wedding would be.”

“Please!” she shrieked.

“The money wasn't in the box, Vanessa. My father spent the money thirty years ago. He left the box empty. I filled it with those photos last night.”

“What about her mother?!” Marcus screamed at the speaker. “We have her mother!”

“No, you don't,” Luca replied. “My security team intercepted your van twenty minutes ago. Dorothy and Kate’s mother are currently having breakfast in my kitchen with Leo. Your men are tied up in the trunk.”

I collapsed against the safety deposit boxes, crying in absolute relief.

“Kate,” Luca’s voice softened. “Do you have the watch?”

I pulled the heavy gold watch from my pocket. “Yes.”

“Press the dial on the top.”

I pressed it.

The heavy steel door hissed, the internal mechanisms unlocking. But it didn't open all the way. It cracked open just enough for a person to slip through.

“Come out, Kate,” Luca said.

I squeezed through the opening. The moment I was clear, Marcus tried to lunge after me, but the heavy door slammed shut again, locking automatically.

Vanessa and Marcus were trapped inside.

I looked up. Luca was standing at the top of the stairs, surrounded by heavily armed police officers and federal agents.

He walked down the steps and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a fierce hug. I buried my face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s over,” he whispered, kissing my hair. “They’re going to federal prison. They will never hurt you, or Leo, or your mother again.”