I RECOGNIZED THE MAFIA BOSS'S PITBULL AS MY STOLEN PUPPY - THEN ONE LAUGH IN HIS DINING ROOM MADE MY BLOOD TURN COLD

The sound hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot.

That laugh.

It wasn't a hearty laugh. It was a low, mocking chuckle that rasped at the back of the throat, ending with a soft, cruel wheeze.

Seven years vanished in a heartbeat.

I was thirteen again, sitting in the dark corner of my bedroom in Queens. My father’s funeral clothes were still hanging on the closet door, smelling faintly of incense and rain. Outside my window, the stormy rain had been pounding against the glass. I remembered hearing the side gate click open. I remembered running to the backyard in my socks, calling out for Buster—the clumsy, nine-month-old pitbull puppy with a white lightning bolt across his chest.

I had seen a shadowy figure climbing over the fence with a sack over his shoulder. When I screamed, the shadow turned. He didn't run right away. He looked straight at me, shoved my whimpering puppy into a crate in the back of a black van, and let out that exact same raspy, arrogant chuckle.

Dominic.

Dominic Vance. Enzo Dante’s right-hand man, senior enforcer, and the boss’s cousin by marriage.

The man holding a crystal glass of scotch right in front of me, staring at Cerberus with a mixture of contempt and subtle panic.

"Get this beast off me, Enzo," Dominic sneered, taking a slow step back as Cerberus’s chest rumbled with a thunderous growl. "He’s getting unpredictable. I told you months ago, we should put him down before he bites one of our own."

My hands were shaking violently as I gripped Cerberus’s tactical leather harness. The dog’s muscles were locked like iron bands. He wasn't growling because he was wild. He was growling because he remembered the man who had stolen him, caged him, and turned him into a weapon.

"Put him down?" Enzo’s voice cut through the tension like a straight razor.

The room went dead silent. The three other lieutenants at the mahogany dining table froze, their forks hovering mid-air.

Enzo didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. He leaned back in his leather chair, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Dominic.

"Cerberus doesn't attack without reason, Dominic," Enzo said softly. "In four years, he has only lunged at three people. Two were federal informants. One was a hitman sent by the Moretti family. So tell me... why is he looking at you like you’re his next target?"

Dominic forced another smile, but this time it didn't reach his eyes. Sweat glistened on his hairline. "He’s a animal, Enzo. The girl rattled him with her singing nonsense. Look at her—she’s a catering servant, trembling like a leaf."

"She’s not trembling because of the dog," Enzo murmured.

Slowly, Enzo stood up. Standing at six-foot-three in a tailored charcoal suit, he commanded every inch of space in the penthouse. He walked around the long table, his leather soles clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, until he stood right beside me and Cerberus.

He didn't look at Dominic. He looked down at me.

"Look at me, little bird," Enzo said softly.

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes up to meet Enzo’s piercing grey gaze.

"You turned white the second Dominic spoke," Enzo said, his voice laced with a dangerous curiosity. "Why?"

My heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it would break. If I spoke the truth in this room full of killers, Dominic could easily have me eliminated before sunrise. But if I lied, Enzo would know. A man who ran half of New York’s underworld didn't survive by missing lies.

I took a deep breath, buried my fingers into Cerberus’s thick fur, and looked Dominic dead in the eye.

"Seven years ago, the man who stole my dog laughed when I begged him to leave him," I said, my voice steadying with every word. "I never forgot that laugh. It woke me up in night terrors for three years."

Dominic’s face flushed red. "Are you insane?! Enzo, you’re letting a nobody cook accuse your top lieutenant—"

"Shut up, Dominic," Enzo snapped without looking at him.

Enzo dropped to one knee beside me. The feared mob boss, a man whose name made billionaires tremble, placed one large, warm hand over mine on Cerberus’s back. Cerberus leaned into his touch, then turned and licked my hand.

"Dominic brought me this dog six years ago," Enzo whispered to me, his tone smooth as velvet, yet cold as ice. "He told me he found him in an illegal fighting ring in South Jersey. He claimed he rescued him."

Enzo stood up and faced Dominic. The air in the room temperature felt like it dropped twenty degrees.

"Is that true, Dominic?" Enzo asked. "Or did you steal a child's dog seven years ago?"

"This is ridiculous!" Dominic spat, adjusting his tie nervously. "You're listening to a broke girl over family? Why would I steal a random kid's pitbull in Queens?!"

Enzo didn't answer right away. He turned back to the dining table. "Dinner is over. Everyone out. Except Dominic."

The other lieutenants stood up instantly, leaving without making a sound.

"You too, little bird," Enzo said, looking down at me. "Take Cerberus to my master quarters. Lock the door from the inside."

I didn't hesitate. I pulled Cerberus by his harness. The big dog gave Dominic one last low, terrifying snarl before following me down the long, dimly lit hallway toward Enzo's private bedroom.