The words hung in the sterile air of the hospital room, heavier than the rain beating against the barred windows.

My daddy gave it to me. Before Aunt Alessandra pushed him.

Matteo stared at the gold watch dangling from the child’s wrist. The chain was thick, the casing engraved with the Romano family crest. It was undeniable proof that Matteo’s father hadn't died in a simple accident.

He had been murdered by the woman Matteo was supposed to marry.

"Leo," Matteo said, his voice terrifyingly gentle. "Are you telling me my father... was your father too?"

The little boy just blinked, pulling the blanket higher around his shoulders. "He said he was going to take mommy and me away. But Aunt Alessandra got mad. She said we ruined everything."

I felt the ground tilt beneath me. Eleanor Vale wasn't a charity case. She was Matteo’s father’s secret lover. And Leo was Matteo’s half-brother.

Alessandra hadn't just covered up a murder. She had locked away her own sister and nephew in a psychiatric fortress to hide the evidence and secure her place as the future matriarch of the Romano empire.

A low groan came from the bed.

Eleanor Vale was waking up.

I moved to her side immediately, my nursing instincts taking over. Her pulse was sluggish, her skin clammy from years of heavy, unnecessary sedation.

"Eleanor?" I said softly. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered open. They were bloodshot and unfocused. She looked at me, then at Matteo, and finally, panic set in.

"Leo," she gasped, trying to sit up, her limbs weak and uncoordinated. "Where is my baby?"

"He’s right here," I said, helping her sit up against the pillows. "He’s safe."

Eleanor looked at Matteo. Tears instantly spilled down her hollow cheeks. "Matteo. Oh God. You look just like him."

"Eleanor," Matteo said, stepping closer to the bed. "Alessandra killed him. And she locked you in here."

Eleanor let out a broken, agonizing sob. "She found out about us. Your father... he loved me, Matteo. I swear he did. He was leaving your mother. He was going to set us up in Europe. Alessandra found the tickets. She confronted him on the balcony while I was waiting by the service gate."

"And you saw her push him?" Matteo asked.

"No," Eleanor wept. "I didn't see the push. But I heard them arguing. And then he fell. When I ran to him, Alessandra was standing at the railing. She looked down at me and smiled."

I felt sick.

"Why didn't you go to the police?" I asked gently.

Eleanor looked at me, her eyes focusing on my face for the first time. She frowned, her expression shifting from grief to a profound, sudden confusion.

"I know you," Eleanor whispered.

I shook my head. "No, ma'am. We’ve never met. I’m Claire. I work for the Romanos."

"Claire," Eleanor repeated. Her eyes widened, a frantic energy returning to her frail body. "Claire Miller?"

My breath caught. "Yes. How do you know my last name?"

Eleanor grabbed my wrist with surprising strength. Her fingers were like ice.

"Your father," she rasped. "Thomas Miller. He built the balcony."

The room spun.

My father was a master carpenter. He had worked for several wealthy families in Chicago before the recession hit and he lost his business. I knew he had done work for the Romanos years ago, but I never knew the specifics.

"He built the addition on the east wing," I said, my voice defensive, panicking. "That has nothing to do with this."

"He didn't just build it," Eleanor cried, coughing violently. "Alessandra paid him! She paid him to weaken the railing! She told me! When she locked me in here, she laughed about it. She said she didn't even have to push him hard. The railing just gave way because the contractor took a bribe!"

I pulled my arm back as if I had been burned.

"No," I whispered. "No, my father is an honest man. He would never—"

I looked at Matteo.

Matteo was staring at me. The trust we had built in the car ride over was fracturing in real-time. The quiet intensity in his eyes shifted into something darker.

"Claire," Matteo said, his voice dangerously low. "Did your father take a bribe to kill my father?"

"No!" I cried, backing away from the bed. "Mr. Romano, I swear to you. We lost everything two years ago. We lost our house. I had to drop out of nursing school. If my father took a massive bribe from Alessandra, why were we starving? Why am I cleaning your floors?"

It was a desperate defense, but it was the truth.

Matteo studied my face. The mafia boss who could read a lie in a single heartbeat searched my eyes.

Before he could answer, the heavy wooden door to the hospital room slammed shut, and the lock clicked from the outside.

We were trapped.

The lights in the room suddenly cut out, plunging us into total darkness.

"Down!" Matteo roared.

A split second later, the glass window facing the hallway shattered inward as heavy, suppressed gunfire chewed through the door frame.