THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME UNFASTEN A PINK BALLET SLIPPER FROM HIS ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER'S SWOLLEN FOOT DURING HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE TWISTED HER ANKLE PLAYING ON THE STAIRS,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE LITTLE GIRL WAS CRYING AND BEGGING ME NOT TO MAKE HER DANCE AGAIN

Vanessa’s face went the color of ash.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked at the ticking watch in Luca’s hand, realizing the fatal trap she had just walked into.

"I... I meant..." Vanessa stammered, backing up a step. "I must have misremembered. You told me—"

"I never told you anything about this watch," Luca said, taking a slow step toward her. The mafia boss who had been calm all night was gone. The man walking toward Vanessa was a grieving husband who had just caught a ghost. "Only three people knew the watch was stopped at 3:15. Me. The watchmaker who couldn't fix it. And Caroline."

Don Bellini frowned, leaning heavily on his cane. "Luca, what the hell are you talking about? She found the maid with the watch."

"The maid didn't work here three years ago, Bellini!" Luca snapped, not taking his eyes off Vanessa. "Caroline had this watch in her purse the day she died. She was taking it to a specialist in the city to surprise me. The watch vanished at the crash site."

Luca stopped inches from Vanessa.

"The police said scavengers must have looted the car before the ambulance arrived," Luca whispered, his voice vibrating with rage. "The time of death on the coroner's report was 3:15 PM. The exact time the car hit the wall. The exact time the impact broke the watch."

Vanessa was trembling violently now. "Luca, please—"

"You didn't just plant this in Claire's pocket tonight," Luca said, his eyes burning into hers. "You stole it from my wife’s dead body."

The silence that followed was heavier than stone.

Even Don Bellini’s men shifted uncomfortably, lowering their weapons slightly. Stealing from a dead woman was a line even the mob respected.

"Papa," Vanessa pleaded, looking at her father. "He’s crazy. He’s making it up!"

But Don Bellini wasn't a fool. He looked at his daughter’s terrified, guilty face. "Vanessa. Were you at the crash?"

"No!" she screamed.

That was when I couldn't hold it in anymore. The threat against my mother didn't matter. If Vanessa walked out of here, she would kill again.

I reached into my shirt and pulled out the folded crayon drawing.

"Yes, she was," I said loudly.

Everyone turned to me. I walked forward, holding the drawing out to Luca.

"Sophie drew this today," I said, my voice shaking but loud. "She drew the crash. She saw the woman who cut the brakes. And tonight, Vanessa stole this drawing from the kitchen and hid it in her red winter coat to destroy the evidence."

Luca snatched the drawing from my hand. He stared at the crude crayon lines. The black car. The broken tire. And the woman in the red coat holding wire cutters.

Luca slowly looked up at Vanessa.

"You killed her," he breathed.

"I didn't!" Vanessa shrieked, backing away until she hit the staircase railing. "It was an accident! I didn't want her to die! I just wanted her to miss the recital!"

The room froze.

"What?" Luca whispered.

Vanessa was sobbing hysterically now, her manicured hands gripping the wooden railing. "You don't understand! We were at the same ballet studio! Caroline got the lead solo role in the alumni showcase! I was the understudy! I practiced for six months, Luca! Six months! And she was going to take the stage and get all the glory!"

I stared at her in absolute horror. She didn't sabotage the car to get to Luca. She did it over a local ballet recital.

"I just wanted to scare her!" Vanessa cried, tears ruining her expensive makeup. "I wanted her to crash into the bushes at the end of the driveway! I wanted her to break her leg so she couldn't dance! I didn't know she was going to take the steep hill down to the highway! I swear to God, I didn't know!"

Luca looked like he had been shot. "You killed my wife... the mother of my child... over a dance recital?"

"She wasn't even that good!" Vanessa screamed, completely losing her grip on reality. "She was arrogant! She thought she was better than everyone else!"

Suddenly, a small, frightened voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

"You're the bad lady."

We all looked up.

Sophie was standing on the landing, holding her stuffed bear, her injured foot resting lightly on the carpet. She was staring down at Vanessa with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"You were the lady in the garage," Sophie whispered. "You looked at me through the window."

Vanessa’s face twisted into something demonic. Cornered, humiliated, and facing the wrath of Chicago's deadliest family, her survival instinct kicked in.