THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME CARRY A HEAVY SOUP TRAY PRESSED AGAINST MY HIP—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “HER HAND GOT CAUGHT IN THE LINEN CLOSET,” BEFORE HE HAD ASKED WHY I COULDN’T HOLD IT NORMALLY.**

The rain outside felt like needles against our skin as we burst through the rear emergency doors of the office building into the maze of shipping containers.

Gunfire echoed behind us as Marco’s remaining mercenaries searched the complex.

Luca leaned heavily against a corrugated steel wall, his breathing shallow, his face pale from blood loss. “The car… is two hundred yards south… near the gate,” he gasped, pressing his hand against his bleeding shoulder.

“You’re losing too much blood, Luca,” I said, my voice trembling with fear. “We can't make it to the main gate on foot. They’ll catch us in the open.”

I looked around the shipping yard. Huge rows of metal containers were stacked three stories high, creating dark, narrow alleys. I spotted a small maintenance shed tucked between two massive red containers fifty yards away.

“In there,” I pointed with my good hand. “We hide in the shed until your backup arrives.”

Luca nodded grimly, allowing me to support his weight as we hurried through the rain, slipping through the dark alleys between the containers. We reached the maintenance shed, pulled open the rusted metal door, and slipped inside, locking the latch behind us.

The shed was dark, smelling of oil, gasoline, and old tires. Luca slid down against the wall, collapsing onto a stack of folded canvas tarps. His face was slick with rain and sweat.

I dropped to my knees beside him, ripping off my maid’s apron with my good hand, tearing the cotton fabric into long strips. “Hold still,” I ordered softly.

“Claire… you shouldn't be doing this… your hand—”

“Quiet,” I commanded gently, wrapping the white cotton cloth tightly around his arm wound to stop the bleeding. “You saved my life twice tonight, Mr. Moretti. The least I can do is keep you from bleeding to death in a tool shed.”

He watched me quietly as I worked, his dark eyes intense beneath his wet hair. Despite the pain, despite the cold, a strange, profound intimacy settled between us in the tiny, dark space. For the first time, he wasn't the feared mafia boss of Chicago, and I wasn't the invisible housemaid. We were just two people surviving a nightmare together.

“You’re braver than any man I’ve ever worked with, Claire,” Luca said softly, his voice rough with exhaustion. “Most people run when the bullets start flying. You grabbed the evidence.”

“My brother died for that ledger,” I said, pulling the knot tight around his arm. “I wasn't going to leave it behind.”

Luca reached up with his uninjured hand and gently touched my cheek, his warm thumb wiping away a smudge of soot near my eye. “Danny would be proud of you. I know I am.”

My heart skipped a beat. His touch was gentle, completely devoid of the violence that surrounded his world. I looked into his eyes, seeing the deep soul of a man who had been surrounded by fake friends and greedy traitors for so long that genuine loyalty felt like a miracle to him.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps splashed through the puddles outside the shed door.

Voices shouted in the darkness. “Check the containers! They couldn't have gone far! Marco wants Luca’s head on a spike before the police arrive!”

Luca’s expression instantly hardened. He raised his pistol, aiming it straight at the wooden door, preparing for a final stand.

I held my breath, clutching the leather ledger to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut as the footsteps stopped right outside our door.

A hand rattled the rusted metal latch.

Then, the loud thrum-thrum-thrum of heavy tactical helicopters roared overhead. Blinding white spotlights cut through the rain, illuminating the shipping yard through the cracks in the shed wall.

Sirens wailed in the distance—dozens of police cars and Moretti security vehicles tearing through the main gates of Dock 42.

Over a loudspeaker, a booming voice echoed across the yard: “THIS IS THE MORETTI SECURITY DETAIL! DROP YOUR WEAPONS IMMEDIATELY!”