THE GREENHOUSE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED LONG BEFORE WE ARRIVED

The flashlight trembled in my hand. The beam danced across the pink ribbon holding the letters together.

“Why would Vanessa write to my father?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper in the quiet, dark yard.

Luca’s jaw was set tight. He carefully untied the ribbon and slid the first letter from its envelope. It was dated five years ago.

He read it in silence, his eyes darting across the page. As he read, the color drained from his face.

“Luca?” I prompted, anxiety gnawing at my stomach. “What does it say?”

He handed me the letter.

Viktor,

My father told me everything before he died. I know who you are. I know what you did for the Moretti family. I know you have the diary. If you ever want your daughter to have a peaceful life, you will secure her a job at the mansion when the time comes. Keep her close to me. Keep her under my thumb. If you refuse, I will tell the police who really killed the old boss. Emma will be an orphan before she turns thirty.

— Vanessa

I stopped breathing.

“She blackmailed him,” I choked out. “That’s why he pushed me to take the housekeeping job. He didn’t want me to work there—he fought with me about it for weeks. But he suddenly gave in. He said he found a good recommendation for me.”

“Vanessa hired you to keep your father silent,” Luca said grimly. “She knew he had the real diary. She was holding you hostage in plain sight to ensure he never came forward.”

I felt sick. Every time Vanessa had snapped her fingers at me, every time she had demeaned me or threatened to fire me, my father had been suffering in silence, terrified that one wrong move would send him to prison and leave me alone.

Luca picked up the leather-bound journal—his mother’s diary.

He opened it to the final entry. The ink was slightly smudged, written in a hurried, desperate hand.

Luca read it aloud, his voice thick with emotion.

“October 14th. He tried to kill my boy tonight. Viktor stopped him. My sweet, loyal Viktor. We buried the monster, but the nightmare isn’t over. Bellini’s lawyer knows. He wants the estate. He wants Luca’s inheritance. I am hiding the true ledger and this diary with Viktor. I’m sending him away. To my son, Luca: If you ever read this, know that the Bellini family is poison. Do not trust them. Do not let them near our legacy. And to Viktor… thank you for saving my son. Take care of your little Emma.”

Luca closed the book gently. He pressed his hand against the leather cover, closing his eyes for a long moment.

“She loved you,” I said softly, touching his arm. “She did all of this to make sure you survived.”

Luca opened his eyes. They were shining, but fierce. “She didn’t just save me. She gave me the weapon I need to end the Bellini family forever. This diary proves Vanessa’s father was extorting my family. It nullifies every contract, every partnership we have with them.”

He stood up, clutching the box.

“It’s over, Emma. We have everything we need.”

Suddenly, the blinding glare of high-beam headlights flooded the alleyway.

The roar of a heavy engine shattered the quiet neighborhood. A black SUV smashed through the wooden fence of the yard, crushing the bicycle on the grass and skidding to a halt just ten feet from the willow tree.

Four doors flew open.

Armed men stepped out, their guns raised.

And from the passenger seat, stepping carefully over the broken fence in her designer heels, was Vanessa.

She looked manic, holding a silver revolver in her hand.

“Did you really think I was just going to pack my bags and run, Luca?” she sneered, pointing the gun directly at us. “I put a tracker on your precious sedan before I left the estate. I knew you were going after the real box.”

Luca stepped in front of me, shielding me entirely. He didn’t draw his weapon. He knew he was outgunned four to one.

“You’re out of your mind, Vanessa,” Luca said coldly. “Shoot me in the middle of a residential suburb? My men will hunt you down before you cross the state line.”

“I don’t need to shoot you,” Vanessa smiled, a twisted, ugly thing. “I just need the box. Hand it over, Luca. Toss it to me, and you and the maid can walk away.”

“And if I don’t?”

Vanessa cocked the hammer of the revolver. But she didn’t point it at Luca.

She pointed it at me.

“Then I shoot the gardener’s daughter. And I let her father watch her die on the hospital monitors.”

Luca’s grip on the iron box tightened. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitching. He was calculating the odds, realizing there was no way to draw his gun before she fired.

“Give it to her, Luca,” I whispered, terrified but resolute. “It’s just a book. Your mother wouldn’t want you to die for it.”

Luca looked at me over his shoulder. “I’m not letting her win.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Vanessa laughed. “Tick tock, Luca.”

Suddenly, the wail of police sirens pierced the night.

Not one. Not two. It sounded like a dozen squad cars converging on the street from every direction. Red and blue lights flashed against the brick houses, illuminating the alleyway.

Vanessa’s smile vanished. “What did you do?” she screamed at Luca.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luca said, genuinely surprised.

A loudspeaker crackled to life from the street.

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS! THIS IS THE POLICE! YOU ARE SURROUNDED!”

Vanessa’s men immediately dropped their guns, raising their hands in the air. They were hired thugs, not martyrs.

Vanessa looked wildly between her men, the police cars, and Luca.

“No!” she shrieked, raising her gun toward the lockbox in Luca’s hands.

Before she could pull the trigger, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the alley behind her.

It was Yuri.

He swung his heavy wooden cane like a baseball bat, striking Vanessa’s wrist with a sickening crack.

She screamed, dropping the revolver as she crumpled to the ground.

Yuri stood over her, breathing heavily, adjusting his frayed wool cap.