BENEATH THE CHANDELIER

Evelyn cried until her ribs ached, her face buried in Rocco’s shirt. He just held her, a solid, immovable mountain in the storm of her collapsing life.

When she finally pulled back, she wiped her eyes, feeling incredibly foolish. “I’m sorry. I have too much pride.”

“Pride is a good thing,” Rocco said gently. “But you don’t have to carry it all alone. Let me pay off the bank.”

Evelyn shook her head immediately. “No. I won’t be a charity case, and I won’t take money from a syndicate.”

Rocco stepped back, a flash of hurt in his eyes. “You think that’s what I am? A criminal?”

“I don’t know what you are, Rocco! You’re looking for a secret ledger to stop your uncle from stealing your niece. Normal businessmen don’t live like this.”

“I live like this because I’m trying to end it!” Rocco’s voice boomed, rattling the antique glass lamps. He took a deep breath, lowering his voice so as not to wake Mia. “When my father died, the family was in chaos. Carmine wanted to start a war. I took over to keep the peace. For twelve years, I’ve been quietly dismantling the illegal operations. Shutting down the rackets, moving our people into legitimate construction and shipping. I’m cleaning the blood off my family’s name. So Mia never has to wear it.”

Evelyn stared at him, seeing the deep, exhausting toll it had taken on him. The gray in his hair. The weary set of his shoulders.

“Carmine figured it out,” Rocco continued, his voice hollow. “He realized I’m starving his illicit income. He went to a judge yesterday. He filed an emergency petition for custody of Mia, claiming my environment is unsafe.”

Evelyn’s hand flew to her mouth.

“The hearing is tomorrow afternoon,” Rocco said, looking at the sleeping little girl. “If I don’t find the trust ledger proving my father legally bound the waterfront assets to Mia—which means Carmine can never touch them—Carmine takes her. And I lose the only good thing I have left.”

Evelyn looked at the massive, terrifying man who was completely entirely broken.

She turned back to the blueprints of the shop. She stared at the map from the pocket watch. The circle in red ink wasn’t around the whole shop. It was slightly off-center.

“Rocco,” Evelyn said slowly, her eyes wide. “Look at this map. The circle isn’t on the floor plan.”

He moved beside her. “Where is it?”

Evelyn looked straight up. Above them hung a massive, incredibly ornate 19th-century bronze chandelier. It had been her father’s prized possession. He always refused to sell it.

“It’s not in the floor,” Evelyn whispered. “It’s in the ceiling.”

Just as Rocco grabbed a ladder, a brick shattered the front window of the shop. Glass exploded inward.

A heavy, grease-stained envelope landed on the floor.

Rocco shielded Evelyn and Mia. Frankie burst out of the back room, gun drawn.

Rocco picked up the envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper. It was a court order.