THE MAN IN THE GIFT ROOM

The tile floor seemed to spin beneath me.

I stared at the sparkling green stones of the antique necklace, my mind violently rejecting what Mia had just said.

“No,” I stammered, shaking my head. “No, Luca wouldn't do that. He was horrified when he saw the drawing. He loves you.”

Mia let out a bitter, broken laugh. “You’ve known my brother for ten months, Hannah. You see the polished billionaire. The gentleman. You don’t know what he is capable of when the family legacy is threatened.”

She stepped over Daniel’s unconscious body and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. Pain shot through my ankle, but the adrenaline masked the worst of it.

“He thinks my son is a bastard,” Mia hissed, her grip painfully tight. “He thinks Leo taints the Moretti bloodline because of who his father is.”

“Who is his father?” I asked.

Mia looked away. “Dominic.”

The air rushed out of my lungs.

Dominic was Luca’s older brother. Mia’s half-brother.

Answer one. The child in the drawing was the product of a forbidden, scandalous relationship that would destroy the mafia family’s reputation forever.

Open two. If Luca wanted the child gone, why was he rushing to the vault to save the ledger? And why did Vanessa need Dominic to steal it?

“We have to go,” Mia said, pulling me toward the shattered bathroom door. “If Luca finds us here, we’re both dead.”

“I can’t,” I cried, pulling my arm out of her grasp. “I’m not leaving. Luca promised I would be safe.”

“He lied to you!” Mia snapped. “Just like he lied to our mother.”

She reached into her vest and pulled out a crumpled train ticket. She shoved it into my hand.

“Union Station. Midnight train to Montreal,” Mia ordered. “I bought it for you. There’s ten thousand dollars cash in a locker there. The key is taped to the back of the ticket. Run, Hannah. Before Vanessa pins the theft of the necklace on you.”

I looked down at the ticket.

It was a first-class sleeper car. Paid in cash.

I turned it over. There was a small brass locker key taped to the back.

But there was also something else.

A smudge of blue ink on the edge of the ticket. The exact same blue ink that was on the back of the photograph of me.

I froze.

I looked up at Mia.

“You bought this for me today?” I asked slowly.

“Yes,” Mia said quickly. “To save you.”

“Then why,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, “is the date stamped on the ticket from three weeks ago?”

Mia’s expression completely vanished. The desperate, terrified mother routine wiped off her face like chalk off a board.

A cold, dead stare replaced it.

“You’re too observant for a maid, Hannah,” she said softly.

Before I could move, Mia reached into her waistband and pulled the gun back out. She aimed it directly at my face.

She cocked the hammer.

“Give me the microfiche,” she demanded.

My heart hammered in my chest.

Reversal. Mia wasn't a victim. She wasn't running from Luca.

“You’re working with Vanessa,” I breathed, the horrific realization washing over me. “Vanessa didn't kidnap your son. You gave him to her.”

Mia didn't blink. “Dominic left me with nothing. The family cut me out. That ledger is mine by right.”

“Luca isn't the monster,” I whispered, tears of betrayal stinging my eyes. “You are.”

Mia smiled, a chilling, cruel curve of her lips.

“Goodbye, Hannah.”

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the gunshot.

BANG.

The deafening sound ripped through the bathroom.

But I didn't feel any pain.

I opened my eyes.

Mia’s gun was still raised, but her hand was shaking violently. A red flower of blood was blooming on her right shoulder.

She dropped the weapon, screaming in pain, and fell to her knees.

Standing in the doorway of the study, smoke still curling from the barrel of his silver handgun, was Luca.

His eyes were completely black with rage.

He didn't even look at his bleeding sister. He looked straight at me.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice shaking with a terrifying intensity.

“No,” I sobbed.

Luca walked forward. He kicked Mia’s gun across the floor, then reached out and grabbed my waist, pulling me hard against his chest.

I buried my face in his shirt, smelling gunpowder, cedar, and rain. He held me so tightly I could barely breathe, his hand buried in my hair.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered fiercely against my temple. “I’ve got you.”

He turned his cold gaze down to Mia, who was clutching her bleeding shoulder on the floor.

“Where is the boy, Mia?” Luca asked softly.

“Go to hell,” she spat.

Luca pulled his phone from his pocket.

“They’re at the auction house, aren't they?” he said. “Vanessa and Dominic. They used the fake necklace as a decoy to get into the private vaults downtown, where my father’s real ledger is kept.”

Mia’s eyes widened in panic.

“How—” she choked out.

“Because,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper, “Hannah isn't just a maid.”