THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME CARRY HIS SLEEPING DAUGHTER DOWN THE STAIRS WHILE LIMPING—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE TWISTED HER ANKLE CLEANING THE GUEST ROOM,” EVEN THOUGH I HAD TOLD NO ONE.

The emeralds caught the pale autumn light, throwing dazzling flashes of green across the marble and mahogany.

Sofia walked slowly down the corridor, holding the priceless necklace as casually as if it were a jump rope. Beside her stood Mrs. Higgins, the elderly head cook who had been with the Moretti family since Luca was a boy.

Luca moved instantly, dropping to one knee before his daughter, his large hands carefully closing around the necklace and Sofia’s small fingers.

“Where did you find this, princess?” Luca asked, his voice softer than silk, completely stripped of the murderous rage from seconds before.

Sofia pointed her small finger straight at Isabella.

“In her closet,” Sofia said clearly. “Inside her silver evening bag.”

Isabella let out a choked, strangled gasp. “That’s a lie! She’s lying! That little brat is trying to frame me!”

“Watch your mouth,” Luca growled, standing up to his full height. The look on his face was no longer just anger; it was pure, unadulterated disgust.

Mrs. Higgins stepped forward, adjusting her apron, her weathered face set in stony disapproval. “It’s the truth, Mr. Moretti. Miss Sofia came down to the kitchen an hour ago and told me she saw Miss Romano coming out of your study with something shiny wrapped in a silk scarf. Miss Sofia said Miss Romano went into her own dressing room, not the guest wing. So while you were driving up the avenue, I went with the child to look. It was right there, tucked into her clutch.”

Isabella backed away until her shoulders hit the wall. Her chest heaved, her perfectly applied makeup doing nothing to hide the gray, terrified pallor of her skin.

“Luca, listen to me!” she pleaded, her hands outstretched. “Someone put it there! It was the nanny! She sneaked into my room and planted it to turn you against me! Why would I steal your necklace? I'm going to be your wife!”

Luca didn't answer. He turned his head slightly toward Frank.

“Frank.”

“Sir?”

“Pull up the server feed from the private library gallery. Camera four.”

Isabella went completely rigid. “Camera four? You... you said there were no cameras in the private quarters!”

“I said there were no cameras in the bedrooms,” Luca corrected her, his voice chillingly calm. “I never said the gallery was unmonitored. Pull it up on the monitor in my study, Frank.”

Frank pulled out an encrypted tablet from his suit jacket, tapped the screen three times, and handed it to Luca.

Luca looked down at the screen. I watched his jaw tighten, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edges of the tablet. After a moment, he turned the screen toward Isabella.

On the high-definition color feed, recorded at 12:15 AM the night before, Marco and Isabella stood by the fireplace. The audio was crystal clear.

*“Not steal it,”* Marco’s recorded voice echoed down the hallway for every member of the household to hear. *“Plant it. In the nanny’s quarters... With the girl gone, Sofia will have no one left to cling to. You step in... And Luca’s eyes will be off his back when the time comes to handle him.”*

Then came Isabella’s voice: *“The study is locked.”*

And Marco’s reply: *“Elena’s birthday and the date of their daughter’s birth...”*

The silence that followed was absolute.

Not a single person breathed. Even the wind against the windows seemed to hold its breath.

Isabella looked at the screen, her eyes wide with horror, realization crashing down on her like a collapsing ceiling.

“Luca...” she whispered, her voice cracking. “My father forced me—”

“Do not speak my name,” Luca said.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the heavy platinum and diamond engagement ring she had left on his nightstand for cleaning the week before, and didn't even look at it. He tossed it onto the carpet at her feet. It landed with a soft, dull click.

“Get out of my house.”

“Luca, please! The alliance—the docks! My father will destroy you!”

Luca took two slow, measured steps toward her. When he stopped, he was so close she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. And what she saw in them made her choke back a sob of pure terror.

“Tell your father,” Luca whispered, every syllable ringing with deadly finality, “that he has until sunset to pack his belongings and leave Chicago. If I see a single Romano on my docks, in my restaurants, or on my streets tomorrow morning... I will not call the police. I will not file an injunction. I will bury him, his brothers, and every man who carries his blood beneath the concrete of the very pier he tried to steal from my daughter.”

Isabella didn't say another word. She couldn't.

She grabbed her coat from the console table and ran. Her heels clicked frantically down the grand staircase, followed seconds later by the heavy slam of the front doors.

The household staff stood frozen, terrified to move.

Luca looked at Frank. “Dismiss everyone. Pack her things and have them delivered to Marco’s estate. Clear the north wing.”

“Yes, boss.”

Within moments, the hallway emptied. Frank escorted the staff downstairs, leaving only Luca, Sofia, and me standing outside the study.

Sofia walked over to me, wrapping her small arms around my legs. I reached down, resting a hand on her shoulder, my own knees trembling from the sheer adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Luca stood in the center of the corridor, looking at the emerald necklace in his hand. The weight of the world seemed to settle on his broad shoulders. He looked exhausted, older, and deeply scarred.

Slowly, he turned to look at me.

“You heard them last night,” he said quietly. “In the library. That was you on the stairs.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Mr. Moretti.”

“Why didn't you come to me immediately?”

“You were already dealing with so much,” I answered honestly, my voice shaking slightly. “And I knew you wouldn't believe me without proof. I went into Isabella’s room this morning before she woke up. I found where she hid the necklace, and I told Sofia to watch her closet. I didn't want you to doubt Sofia.”

Luca stared at me. The hardness in his dark eyes melted, replaced by an expression of profound, almost reverent awe.

He closed the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. He reached out, his hand gently cupping the side of my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone. The heat of his skin sent a shiver straight through to my soul.