THE MAIDS SENT ME TO REMOVE THE MAFIA BOSS’S SILENT MOTHER FROM HIS DAUGHTER’S BIRTHDAY PARTY

I leaned against the rotting wooden frame of the vestry door, my knees threatening to give out.

“David is dead?” The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

For five years, I had harbored a bitter, burning anger toward the man who had supposedly packed his bags in the middle of the night and left a struggling mother and a deaf child to fend for themselves. I had worked double shifts, scrubbing toilets, cursing his name every time I couldn't afford Lucy’s therapy.

“I’m sorry,” Marco said softly. He limped closer, and for the first time, I noticed the dark, wet stain spreading across the side of his shirt. He was bleeding.

“You’re hurt,” I said, instinct momentarily overriding my shock.

“Carmine’s men caught up to us near the estate,” Marco grunted, pressing a hand against his ribs. “David saved my life that night five years ago, Rachel. Carmine wanted me dead so I couldn't expose him. David drove the car that got me out of Chicago. But Carmine’s men caught him on his way back to you.”

Tears blurred my vision. David hadn't left us. He had died trying to get back to us.

“Why did he buy the bracelet for Sofia?” I asked, looking at the little girl in the pink dress.

“Because David knew Carmine would eventually come for her,” Marco explained, leaning heavily against the stone altar. “Carmine is old school. He knows that as long as Vincent has an heir, Vincent won't step down. Carmine planned to kill Sofia today, blame it on my supposed ‘revenge,’ and force Vincent into a grief-stricken retirement.”

Sofia looked up at me, her brown eyes filled with tears. “Are you my daddy’s friend?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing a gentle smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m here to take you back to him.”

Marco checked his watch. “It’s 2:45. We have to get to the train station. If we can get Sofia to Montreal, my contacts there will keep her safe until Vincent can wipe Carmine out.”

“We’re not going to Montreal,” I said firmly.

Marco stared at me. “Excuse me?”

“Vincent said to wait here. He’s handling Carmine.”

“Vincent doesn't know the whole truth!” Marco snapped, wincing as pain flared in his side. “Carmine has half the capos in the family on his payroll. If Vincent confronts him at the party, it will be a slaughter. Vincent will die, and they will hunt us down.”

“So what do we do?” I asked, panic rising.

Before Marco could answer, the deafening screech of tires echoed from the street outside.

Marco’s face went completely pale. He dragged himself to the shattered stained-glass window and peered out.

“It’s Carmine’s men,” Marco whispered. “They found the SUV.”

Three black sedans had blocked the chain-link fence. Heavily armed men were pouring out, advancing on the chapel.

“Get her into the catacombs,” Marco ordered, shoving his pistol into my hands.

“I don't know how to use this!” I cried, holding the heavy weapon away from me like a poisonous snake.

“Safety is the switch on the left. Point and pull,” Marco coughed, drawing a second, smaller gun from his ankle holster. “Behind the altar, there’s an iron grate. It leads to the old prohibition tunnels under the city. Go. Now!”

I grabbed Sofia’s hand. “Come on, sweetie. We have to run.”

I pulled her behind the altar. Beneath a rotting rug was a heavy iron grate. I hauled it open, revealing a dark, damp stone staircase leading into the pitch black.

“Marco, come with us!” I yelled.

“I’ll just slow you down,” Marco said, barricading the chapel doors with a broken pew. “I owe David a debt. Keeping you and your daughter safe pays it.”

“Marco, no!”

“Tell my mother I’m sorry,” Marco smiled a sad, weary smile.

Then the chapel doors exploded inward.