She Sang His Mother’s Song Without Knowing It—And the Mafia Boss’s Cold Mask Finally Broke

The temperature in the library seemed to drop ten degrees.

“Who delivered it?” Christopher demanded, his voice devoid of the warmth he had shown me minutes prior.

“A courier,” Marcus replied. “We grabbed him, but he doesn't know anything. Said a guy in a tailored suit handed him a hundred bucks to drop it at the gate.”

Christopher dismissed Marcus with a wave of his hand. Once the door clicked shut, he turned back to the window, staring out at the darkening street.

“The Mancuso family,” Christopher said softly.

“The Calabrians from the letter?” I asked, standing up from the table.

“Yes. They never forgot the insult. My mother rejecting their Don’s son to marry a rival boss was a declaration of war. My father managed to keep them out of Boston through brute force and bloodshed. But with my father dead, they think the Vitali syndicate is weak.”

He turned to face me, his dark eyes shadowed with worry.

“They know I’m digging into the past. The black rose is a traditional warning. It means blood is owed.”

“Christopher, this is a literal mafia war,” I said, panic finally beginning to bubble in my chest. “You need to go to the police.”

Christopher let out a dark, humorless laugh.

“I own the police in this district, Emily. They can't help me against the ’Ndrangheta. This is handled in the shadows.”

He walked toward me, stopping just inches away. The scent of cedar and danger wrapped around me, suffocating my common sense.

“I shouldn't have brought you into this,” he whispered, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His knuckles grazed my jawline, sending a shiver down my spine. “You're a civilian. You sing beautiful songs and worry about rent. You don't belong in the crossfire.”

“I’m already here,” I said stubbornly, refusing to back away from his touch.

“I know,” he sighed. “Which means you are now a liability. If the Mancusos find out you are translating these letters, they will use you to get to me.”

“I won't tell anyone.”

“It doesn't matter. They have eyes everywhere.”

Christopher pulled his hand away and pulled a sleek black phone from his pocket. He dialed a number quickly.

“Marcus. Prep the armored SUV,” Christopher ordered into the phone. “And assign Dante and Leo to Miss Carter. She doesn't take a single step without them from now on.”