The maid’s toddler said a man with your face followed me, and the mafia boss realized his family had buried a living brother

"How many?" Evan shouted over the deafening roar of automatic rifle fire.

"Four outside!" Vincent replied, crawling behind the stone base of the chimney. "Maybe more on the path!"

Vincent raised his pistol, firing three rapid shots through the broken window frame. A scream echoed from the darkness outside, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the gravel.

"We need that ledger!" Evan shouted, reaching out toward the rusted steel vault on the floor.

He pulled the two tarnished silver crest pieces from his pocket. The double key fit perfectly into the dual keyholes on the front of the vault. Evan twisted both pieces simultaneously to the right.

CLICK-CLACK.

The heavy steel door swung open. Inside lay a thick, leather-bound book stamped with the Marlowe family seal, alongside a secure USB flash drive containing encrypted banking files.

Evan grabbed the book and the drive, shoving them into his coat pocket.

"Got it!" Evan yelled.

"Window!" Vincent shouted, grabbing a heavy iron lamp from the table and hurling it through the rear window frame, shattering the remaining glass.

The two brothers scrambled through the rear window, dropping six feet onto the muddy grass behind the cottage. They sprinted down the narrow cliff path toward the hidden cove where the Black Falcon was docked.

Behind them, gunfire continued to tear through the dark trees, but the heavy sea fog wrapped around them like a protective shield, hiding their movements as they slid down the wet rocks.

They reached the boat, untied the heavy mooring lines, and pushed off into the dark water.

Vincent slammed the throttles forward. The powerful twin engines roared to life, propelling the high-speed craft out into the open bay, leaving the gunfire and the burning lights of Block Island far behind in the mist.

Standing at the stern of the boat, watching the island fade into the silver darkness, Evan let out a long, shuddering breath.

He pulled the leather-bound ledger from his pocket, holding it tight against his chest.

"It's over," Evan murmured. "Vance is gone. The proof is here."

Vincent stood at the wheel, looking back at his twin brother.

"It's not over until we secure the house, Evan," Vincent said softly. "The Syndicate knows where we live. We take this ledger straight to the Federal Prosecutor in Providence at sunrise."

"And then?" Evan asked, walking up to stand beside his brother at the helm.