A six-year-old boy proposed to me while I was hiding from the men my stepmother had sent to collect me like property. I laughed, sealed our ridiculous engagement with a pinky promise, and said yes, only for the storage-room door to burst open seconds later and reveal that my new “fiancé” was the son of Michael Moretti, the most feared mafia boss on the East Coast.

The ballroom erupted into a frenzy of gunfire.

Don Carmine's eyes went wide with shock as he realized he had been played. "Kill them all!" he screamed, diving behind two of his bodyguards.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Automatic gunfire ripped through the air, shattering the massive crystal chandeliers above. Glass showered down over the crowd like diamond rain.

Before I could scream, Michael was over the stage railing. He tackled me and Zach to the polished wood floor, covering our bodies completely with his heavy, bulletproof-lined frame as bullets buzzed through the air inches above our heads.

"Lev! Clear the south exit!" Michael roared over the deafening noise of the firefight.

"On it, Boss!"

Michael picked up Zach under one arm and grabbed my wrist firmly with his other hand, hoisting me to my feet. "Run!"

We sprinted through the side service corridor as the battle raged in the ballroom behind us. Michael fired three fast shots down the hallway, dropping two rival henchmen who tried to cut off our escape, before shoving us through a heavy metal security door into the subterranean garage.

A heavy black armored truck was running, its doors wide open.

"Get in!" Michael ordered, shoving me and Zach into the leather backseat before sliding in behind us and slamming the reinforced door shut.

Lev jumped into the driver's seat, slammed the vehicle into reverse, and smashed straight through the closed wooden garage doors into the snowy night outside.

Bullets hammered against the armored glass of the truck like hail, but the reinforced plating held. Within seconds, we were speeding down the winding palisades road, leaving the burning chaos of the estate behind us.

Inside the truck, the only sound was the heavy, ragged breathing of the four of us.

Zach was sobbing silently into my lap, his little hands clinging to my emerald dress. I wrapped my arms around him, rocking him gently, my mind still reeling from the explosion of revelations.

"Is... is he really alive?" I gasped, looking at Michael through the darkness of the backseat. "My father?"

Michael pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket, reaching over to gently wipe a streak of soot from my cheek. His hands were steady, his gray eyes filled with an intense, unyielding sincerity.

"Lorenzo came to me seven months ago," Michael explained, his voice low and raspy. "He knew Carmine was going to kill him for the fifty million. He offered me the bearer bonds in exchange for saving his life and protecting you."

"Then why... why did my stepmother think he was dying?!"

"Regina was working for Carmine," Michael said, disgust dripping from his tone. "Lorenzo knew she was poisoning his food. I supplied her with fake thallium—harmless powder—while Lorenzo feigned illness to make Carmine believe the poison was working. On the night he supposedly died in the hospital, my men extracted him out the back door and replaced his body with a medical double."

"And the bonds?" I asked, my breath catching in my throat.

Michael reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a small, old brass key on a leather cord—the same key my father had carried around his neck for as long as I could remember.

"Lorenzo gave me this night before he went into hiding," Michael said, placing the key gently into my palm. "He told me to give it to you when you were safe. The bonds aren't in a bank, Aurora. They're in an old fishing cabin in Portland, Maine."

Tears streamed freely down my face. All those months... all those nights spent sleeping in cold alleys, running from Regina, believing my father was gone forever...

"He's waiting for you, Aurora," Michael whispered, his hand coming up to gently cup my face. "I promised your father I would bring you to him when the war was over."

I looked at the brass key in my hand, then up into the face of the ruthless mob boss who had burned his own world down just to keep a promise to a dying man.