"The Maid Congratulated His Fia.ncée .— The Mafia Boss Saw Her Tears

The sedan didn't take me to a hospital or a safe house.

It pulled into the subterranean parking garage of an abandoned warehouse district near the naval yard.

The car doors unlocked with a sharp click.

"Out," the man in the trench coat said.

I clutched my mother's briefcase to my chest.

"Where are we?"

"A place where we can talk without Matteo listening."

We walked past concrete pillars into a dimly lit concrete room furnished only with a steel table and two chairs.

A single overhead bulb flickered.

"Sit down, Tessa."

"I want answers first."

The man chuckled, pulling out a pack of American Spirits.

He lit one, the flame casting orange light across his sharp jawline.

"My name is Agent Vance. Federal Bureau of Investigation. Organized Crime Division."

I stared at him.

"You're an FBI agent?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Considering you kidnapped me out of an alley, yes."

"I rescued you," Vance corrected, blowing a stream of blue smoke toward the ceiling. "Matteo Moretti is the head of the Moretti crime syndicate. He took over after his father faked his death."

"Matteo told me his father died in a crash."

"Convenient lie." Vance leaned forward. "Victor Moretti is alive. And he's running the entire East Coast narcotics and diamond smuggling ring."

I opened my mother's leather briefcase on the steel table.

I pulled out the first journal.

"My mother wrote about Project Janus."

Vance’s eyes narrowed.

He stubbed out his cigarette immediately.

"Open page forty-two."

I flipped through the brittle pages.

My fingers trembled as I found the page.

There was a list of names.

At the top was Victor Moretti.

Beneath it was a list of corrupt federal judges, police captains, and politicians.

And at the bottom...

My mother's signature alongside another signature I didn't recognize.

"Read the bottom name," Vance whispered.

I squinted under the flickering light.

"Agent... Arthur Vance."

My blood ran ice cold.

I looked up slowly.

Vance was smiling.

Not a warm smile.

A predator's smile.

"You shouldn't have looked at page forty-two, Tessa."

I stood up so fast my chair crashed backward onto the concrete floor.

"You're on the list."

"Of course I am," Vance said, drawing a suppressed pistol from his trench coat. "I was your mother's handler before she tried to sell us out to the Italian authorities."

The warehouse door behind me clicked open.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the vast space.

"Looking for me, Agent Vance?" a familiar voice called out from the darkness.

Matteo stepped into the light.

His shoulders were singed, and blood stained his left sleeve.

In his hand, he held a heavy tactical shotgun.