THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE TOLD ME TO SEAT HIS SEVENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD FORMER HOUSEKEEPER IN THE KITCHEN—BUT WHEN I BROUGHT HER TO THE ENGAGEMENT TABLE, LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP AND CALLED HER “MAMA ROSA.”

After Vance and his men departed, the mansion fell into a dark, hopeless gloom.

Luca sat alone at his desk, staring at his father's signature on the contract. Marco stood near the door, silently awaiting orders that seemed impossible to give. Fighting New York and the remaining Bellini loyalists at the same time would tear the city apart.

The door pushed open gently, and Rosa walked in, holding a small wooden box bound in worn brass.

"Luca," she said softly.

Luca looked up, forcing a tired smile for her. "Mama, please go back to the cottage. It's not safe right now."

"I know why Antonio Vance is here," Rosa said, placing the wooden box directly on top of the legal contract. "I was there the night your father signed that paper."

Luca blinked in surprise. "You were?"

"Your father was a weak man when your mother died," Rosa explained gently, her eyes full of old memories. "He was terrified of losing power. He signed Vance's contract, yes. But your mother knew what he had done before she passed."

Rosa unlocked the brass clasp on the wooden box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a thick, official document sealed with a red wax stamp from the State of Illinois.

"What is that?" I asked, stepping closer to the desk.

"Your mother didn't own the estate through your father," Rosa revealed, a small, triumphant smile touching her lips. "Her family owned the land long before the Morettis ever came to Chicago. Three days before she died, she transferred the deed of the property and the shipping dock titles into a private trust."