THE EXIT STRATEGY

The armored car tore through the rain-slicked streets of Chicago, the siren wailing a terrifying, desperate song.

I was huddled in the backseat, trembling so violently my teeth chattered.

Luca sat across from me, reloading an assault rifle with practiced, terrifying efficiency.

"We have to go back," I said, my voice cracking. "Luca, Victor is going to kill him!"

"My brother gave me one order," Luca replied, not looking up from his weapon. "Get you and the baby to the extraction point. I don't disobey Matteo. Not anymore."

"He walked in there to die!" I yelled, slamming my hand against the reinforced glass.

Luca finally stopped loading his gun.

He looked at me, his blue eyes softening with a heavy, ancient grief.

"Norah, my brother has spent his entire life building a fortress so nobody could ever hurt him again. You are the only person he ever let inside. He knew exactly what he was doing when he walked through those doors."

I stared at my hands.

They were covered in soot and small cuts from the ropes.

"He killed my father," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Marcus told me. Matteo ordered the hit on my father."

Luca closed his eyes.

He let out a long, slow breath.

"Matteo didn't kill your father, Norah."

I looked up, my heart stalling in my chest.

"What?"

Luca reached into his tactical vest.

He pulled out a thick, folded document and tossed it onto the seat beside me.

"Read it."

My hands shook as I picked up the paper.

It was a police report. Three years old. Heavily redacted, but the details were clear.

Victim: Arthur Davis.

Cause of death: Vehicle explosion.

Primary suspect: Victor Moretti.

"Victor killed him?" I breathed, trying to make sense of the words.

"Your father was the best forensic accountant in the country," Luca explained, his voice low. "He worked for Victor Moretti. But your father found out Victor was trafficking women through his shipping ports. Your father couldn't stomach it. He compiled a dossier to give to the FBI."

Luca leaned forward.

"Victor found out. He put a bomb in your father's car."

Tears blurred my vision.

"But... Marcus said..."

"Marcus was Victor's man," Luca spat with disgust. "Marcus fed you lies to get you to run to Chicago. They knew Matteo's security in Boston was too tight. They needed you in the open."

I felt physically sick.

I had run away from the man who protected me, straight into the arms of the man who murdered my father.

"Then why did Matteo lie to me?" I cried. "Why did he let me believe it was just a car accident?"

"Because your father made Matteo swear a vow," Luca said softly. "Before he died, your father came to Matteo. He gave Matteo the evidence against Victor, and in exchange, he asked Matteo to protect you."

Luca pointed to my wrist.

"Matteo didn't just marry you out of obligation, Norah. He fell in love with you."

I looked down at my wrist.

Underneath the soot and dirt, I was still wearing the heavy gold bracelet Matteo had given me on our first anniversary.

For my life, and yours, the inscription inside read.

I had thought it was just a beautiful, controlling piece of jewelry.

Now, I realized it was a shield.

"Matteo took the blame for your father's death in the underworld so Victor wouldn't know the FBI had the files," Luca continued. "He built his entire empire just to be strong enough to keep Victor away from you."

And I had ruined it.

I had found Harper's perfume on his collar.

I had found the texts.

"The texts," I whispered. "Harper."

Luca grimaced.

"Harper isn't his mistress, Norah. Harper is an FBI handler. Matteo has been working as an informant for three years to build a RICO case against Victor Moretti. He had to meet her in secret. He had to act like a cheating bastard so his own men wouldn't suspect he was working with the Feds."

The walls of the armored car seemed to close in on me.

Matteo hadn't betrayed me.

He had sacrificed his reputation, his peace, and my trust—all to ensure the man who murdered my father would rot in a federal prison.

And because I didn't trust him, Matteo was currently standing in a warehouse with Victor Moretti.

"Turn the car around," I commanded.

Luca shook his head. "No. The jet is waiting."

I reached forward and grabbed the barrel of Luca's assault rifle, pulling it toward my chest.

Luca flinched, pulling his hands away. "Are you crazy?!"

"I am the wife of the boss," I said, my voice suddenly finding a core of absolute, unbreakable steel. "You said you don't disobey Matteo. Well, Matteo gave his empire to Victor ten minutes ago. Which means I am the only family you have left."

I glared at him, the tears gone.

"Turn the car around, Luca. We are going back for my husband."

Luca stared at me for a long, heavy moment.

He saw the fire in my eyes. He saw the woman Matteo had fallen in love with.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across Luca's face.

He tapped the glass dividing the front seat.

"Driver," Luca barked. "Turn us around. We're going hunting."

Ten minutes later, we arrived back at the warehouse.

The smoke had cleared. The gunfire had stopped.

It was entirely, terrifyingly silent.

Luca kicked the side door open, his weapon raised.

"Stay behind me," he ordered.