THE GROOM WAS NEVER THE REAL DANGER

The silence in the back of the van was heavier than the gunshot that had killed Selena.

I stared at Lily, the beautiful, terrified bride I had been protecting all day. The girl who had wept in her dressing room, claiming she was sacrificing her life for her mother.

“What did you just say?” Luca’s voice was a terrifying, hollow whisper. He dropped the child’s drawing, the paper fluttering onto Grace’s bloodstained lap.

Lily pressed herself harder against the vibrating metal wall of the van, refusing to meet her father’s eyes.

“I had no choice,” Lily sobbed, her hands knotting into the ruined fabric of her dress. “Two years ago… when I was at college. I got into a car accident. I had been drinking, Dad. I hit a man on a bicycle. He died.”

Grace let out a muffled gasp, her hand covering her mouth.

“I panicked,” Lily cried, the words spilling out in a rush of guilt. “I drove away. But there were traffic cameras. Daniel found out. His family owned the precinct that caught the footage. He told me if I didn’t help them dismantle our family from the inside, he would release the tapes and I would spend twenty years in prison.”

Luca looked like a man who had just been stabbed. The fierce, untouchable mafia boss was shattering right in front of me.

“You helped them?” Luca asked, his voice cracking. “You helped Vincenzo and Daniel plant the evidence against your own mother?”

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt her!” Lily screamed defensively. “They said if I just got her out of the house, away from you, they could take over the business peacefully! I didn’t know they were going to kill anyone!”

I felt sick to my stomach. Lily hadn’t just been a victim. She was the inside man. She was the reason Grace had been banished, the reason Selena had been planted, the reason we were all running for our lives.

“Stop the van,” Luca said quietly.

“Mr. Moretti, we’re still in the hot zone—” Michael started from the driver’s seat.

“I said STOP THE VAN!” Luca roared, punching the metal partition.

Michael slammed on the brakes, pulling the van into a dark alley behind an abandoned strip mall. The tires hissed against the wet pavement.

Luca turned to his daughter. He didn’t yell. He didn’t raise his hand. But the coldness in his eyes was worse than any violence.

“Get out,” Luca said.

Lily froze. “Dad… please.”

“You sold out your mother,” Luca said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “You watched her cry today. You watched her bleed tonight. And you did it to cover up a hit-and-run.”

“I’m your daughter!” Lily begged, crawling toward him.

“My daughter wouldn’t leave a man to die on the street,” Luca said. He reached over and violently slid the side door open. The freezing rain blew into the van. “Get out. Go to Daniel. If you’re so desperate to save yourself, go be his wife.”

“Luca, no,” Grace wheezed from the floorboard. She tried to sit up, but the pain forced her back down. “She’s just a kid. She was scared.”

“She’s twenty-four, Grace! She made her choice!”

“I won’t let you leave her,” Grace cried, her fingers digging into Luca’s ruined white shirt. “If she steps out of this van, I’m getting out with her.”

Luca stared at his bleeding wife. “Gracie, she betrayed us.”

“I don’t care!” Grace sobbed fiercely. “I’m her mother! I don’t care what she did, I will not let her die in an alley! Close the door, Luca! CLOSE IT!”

Luca’s jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would shatter. He stared at Lily, who was sobbing uncontrollably on the floorboards.

Slowly, agonizingly, Luca reached out and slammed the door shut.

“Drive,” Luca told Michael. “To Lily’s loft. We’re getting those files.”

Michael threw the van into gear. We sped back onto the streets, heading toward the wealthy downtown district.

The drive was agonizing. Nobody spoke. The illusion of the perfect, loyal mafia family had been entirely destroyed. They were just broken people, hiding secrets to survive.

Thirty minutes later, Michael killed the headlights, rolling the van to a stop in the underground parking garage of a luxury high-rise.

“Take my gun, Michael,” Luca said, handing his weapon through the partition. “Stay here with Grace and Emily. Keep the engine running.”

“I’m coming with you,” I said, surprising myself.

Luca looked back at me. “Emily, this isn’t your fight.”

“My brother is driving the getaway car, and I’ve got your wife’s blood on my hands,” I said firmly. “I’m in it now. You need someone to carry the files while you watch the doors.”

Luca studied me for a second, then nodded. He turned to Lily. “Give me the keys to the loft.”

Lily numbly reached into her cleavage, pulling out a sleek black keycard. She handed it to him without a word.

Luca and I slipped out of the van. The garage was eerily quiet. We moved quickly to the private elevator. Luca swiped the card, and we rode up to the penthouse floor in tense silence.

The elevator chimed open. The hallway was empty.

Luca swiped the card on Lily’s door and pushed it open.

The loft was dark, illuminated only by the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was immaculate. Too immaculate.

“Where did she say the safe was?” Luca whispered.

“Behind the painting in the bedroom,” I replied softly.

We moved silently across the hardwood floor. But as we reached the bedroom door, a soft click echoed through the dark apartment.

The lights suddenly blazed on, blinding us.

Sitting in a leather armchair in the center of the living room, holding a suppressed pistol, was Daniel.

And standing right behind him, holding a thick green ledger book, was Grace’s lawyer.