GUARDED BY MY POSSESSIVE MAFIA BROTHERS

My brothers assigned six armed men to my twenty-first birthday party. Not six waiters. Not six photographers. Six men carrying guns beneath their black jackets. They stood around the ballroom pretending to be ordinary security guards, but ordinary guards didn't watch every guest as if deciding which one might try to kill me. "Smile, piccola," Luca whispered. "People are beginning to think you hate your own party." "I do hate it." "That explains your face." He took the champagne from my hand and replaced it with sparkling water. I glared at him. "I'm twenty-one." "And?" "I'm allowed to drink." "You're also allowed to make terrible decisions. That doesn't mean I have to support them." "I only had one sip." "One sip can make you reckless." "I'm already reckless." Luca glanced at the guards surrounding us. "We're painfully aware." Unlike Dante, Luca didn't immediately look dangerous. He had warm brown eyes, wavy hair, and a charming smile that made people trust him. That trust usually disappeared when they discovered the gun beneath his jacket. "You promised not to embarrass me tonight," I reminded him. "I haven't embarrassed you." "You questioned Sophie's boyfriend for thirty minutes." "I was introducing myself." "You asked for his address, workplace, and blood type." "The blood type was a joke." "He didn't know that." "That made it funnier." I looked around the ballroom. The De Santis mansion had been decorated with white roses, crystal lights, and gifts I hadn't requested. Politicians and businessmen filled the room alongside men who avoided cameras and used false names. Technically, it was my birthday celebration. In reality, it was another opportunity for my family to display its wealth and power. "You could've let me celebrate at a restaurant," I said. "And allow unknown men to approach your table?" Luca placed a hand over his heart. "Dante would die from stress." "Stressing him is my only entertainment." Unfortunately, I had seen Dante truly angry. Five months ago, a young doctor asked for my phone number after treating my injured wrist. Dante found out before the doctor finished my prescription. Three days later, the doctor moved to Seattle. Dante claimed it was a coincidence. Dante did not believe in coincidences. As if I had summoned him, my eldest brother entered the ballroom. Conversations immediately softened. At thirty-five, Dante De Santis was one of Chicago's most powerful men. Newspapers knew him as the CEO of De Santis International. They didn't mention the illegal weapons in his warehouses or the judges who answered his calls after midnight. Tonight, he wore a black suit and a cold expression. His eyes searched the ballroom before stopping on me. First, he checked whether I was safe. Then he found something to criticize. "Where is Mother's necklace?" he asked. "I took it off. It was heavy." "You should be wearing it." "Did you come to wish me happy birthday or inspect my clothes?" His gaze dropped to my dark blue dress. It wasn't short or revealing, but he still frowned. "That dress is new." "It's my birthday, Sherlock." "Who chose it?" "I did. I didn't realize buying clothes required a family meeting." Luca leaned toward him. "Be careful. She's already angry because I took her champagne." "You stole it," I corrected. Dante's expression hardened. "You were drinking?" "One sip!" "We agreed that you wouldn't drink tonight." "No. You and Luca agreed. I was informed afterward." That was how decisions worked in our house. My brothers created the rules, and I discovered them when I broke one. When I was younger, their attention made me feel safe. After our parents died, Dante checked beneath my bed every night. Luca stayed awake whenever thunderstorms frightened me. But I wasn't a child anymore. I didn't need six guards at my party or my phone tracked wherever I went. "I have something to tell you," I said. Luca became serious. "What did you do?" "That reaction is why I didn't tell you earlier. I applied for a job." Silence fell between us. "Doing what?" Luca asked. "Assistant curator at the Bellmore Gallery." "No," Dante said. "I wasn't asking. I studied art history for four years. I want to use my degree." "You can manage our private collection." "I want to work somewhere that isn't controlled by this family." Dante's face became dangerously still. "The gallery is downtown," Luca said. "It isn't secure." "It has cameras and guards." "Guards who won't stop someone determined to use you against us," Dante replied. "Not everyone in Chicago wants to kidnap me." "You don't know that." "Neither do you!" "I know more than you think." For one second, he didn't look controlling. He looked frightened. Then the emotion disappeared. "You'll withdraw the application tomorrow." "No. I already have an interview. Monday at ten." "You're not going," Dante decided. "You can't keep me inside forever. I'm your sister, not your property." His expression changed, but I walked away before he could answer. Sophie stood near the terrace doors. "Bad?" she asked. "Dante rejected my job." "Did you tell them about Noah?" "No." Noah Carter had lived near us when we were children. We spent summers climbing trees and stealing cookies from the kitchen. His family moved to London ten years ago, but three days ago he contacted me. He was returning to Chicago and had invited me for coffee on Monday. If my brothers learned I planned to meet a man they hadn't investigated, Noah might disappear before he unpacked. "You can't hide him forever," Sophie said. "I only need until Monday." Before she could respond, the lights flickered twice. Then the ballroom went dark. The orchestra stopped. Guests murmured in confusion. Someone grabbed my wrist. I tried to pull away, but Luca's voice came through the darkness. "It's me." His arm wrapped around my shoulders. Dante appeared on my other side. "Take her upstairs," he ordered. "It's probably an electrical problem." "This house has three backup generators," Dante said. "They don't fail together." Red emergency lights illuminated the room. Every guard had drawn his weapon. Less than a minute later, the lights returned. One guard whispered to Dante. His face darkened. "The cameras were interrupted for forty-seven seconds," he told Luca. Dante turned to me. "Go to your room." "I'm not a child." "Now, Elena." I walked upstairs with Luca and two guards. At my door, Luca caught my hand. "Stay here until we come for you." "What are you hiding?" "Nothing." "You always say that when you're hiding something." His expression softened. He touched my cheek as if afraid I might disappear. "You're the most important person in this family," he said. "Our rules exist for a reason." "Then tell me the reason." Guilt appeared in his eyes. "I can't." Luca closed my door and left a guard outside. Happy birthday to me. My phone vibrated. A message from Noah appeared. Happy birthday, Ellie. I can't wait to see you. I've missed you more than I should admit. Despite everything, I smiled. Before I could reply, another message appeared from an unknown number. It contained a photograph. A much younger version of my mother stood outside a hospital. Dante and Luca were beside her as children. In her arms was a newborn wrapped in a white blanket. Me. At least, I assumed it was me. But the date printed on the photograph was October 17, 2004. According to every document I had seen, I was born on May 23. Seven months earlier. A second message arrived. That baby is not who you think she is. My fingers turned cold. Who are you? I typed. The answer came immediately. Someone who knows what your brothers did. Footsteps approached. Dante entered without knocking. "Elena, give me your phone." I pressed it against my chest. "Why?" "An unknown signal interrupted our security system." His eyes moved over my face. "What happened?" "Nothing." It was the first time I had lied directly to him. Another message appeared before I could turn off the screen. Ask Dante why there are no photographs of your mother pregnant with you. Dante stepped closer. "Elena." I looked at the brother who had protected and controlled me for my entire life. For the first time, I wondered whether his rules kept danger outside or stopped me from discovering the secret already hidden in our home. I turned off my phone and forced myself to smile. "It was only a birthday message." Dante studied me silently. He knew I was lying. And from the fear in his eyes, he might already know why.