My Husband's Secret Mafia Bride

"Rocco, line two," I said into the receiver.

"Signora Salvatore? It's two in the morning."

"The frequency alarm tripped."

"My boards show green. Everything is quiet."

"Check the analog bypass. The low-pitch sensor."

Keys clacked over the speaker. "Nothing on my end, boss. The house is locked down tight."

"I'm going down to the vault."

"Want me to send a detail with you?"

"No. Stay on the monitors."

I dropped the phone onto the mattress. The hum vibrated through the floorboards, a pitch designed specifically for the inner ear of a Salvatore bloodline member. I pushed out of bed. The marble floor bit into my bare feet as I walked out of the master suite.

The hallway stood empty. Thursday mornings were always dead quiet.

I took the spiral staircase down to the sub-level.

I punched my code into the keypad. The heavy steel door hissed open.

I stepped inside. The climate-controlled air washed over my skin.

I walked straight to the center pedestal.

The velvet display stand sat empty.

I pulled my cell from my pocket and hit speed dial.

"Rocco."

"Yeah, boss?"

"The diamond crown is gone."

"What? That’s impossible. The sensors didn't flag a breach."

"Pull the interior feed. Timestamp: last two hours."

"Pulling it now." A heavy silence stretched over the line. "Jesus."

"Who took it?"

"It's Julian."

I stared at the empty velvet. "My husband."

"He came in at one-twenty. Punched a code into the keypad."

"I never gave him a code."

"He used the alphanumeric sequence. He bypassed the secondary lock."

"He doesn't have security clearance for the sub-level."

"He must have cloned your master key fob," Rocco said. "The system registered your credentials."

"Send the footage to my tablet. Now."

The video file chimed into my inbox seconds later. I hit play.

Julian walked into the frame, wearing the dark suit he wore to dinner. He typed on the keypad, lifted the glass case, and took the crown. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look at the camera. He slipped the crown into a black bag and walked out.

"Did he leave the compound?" I asked.

"Gate logs show his car exited at one-thirty. Want me to track his plates?"

"No. I have a faster way."

"Signora, if he took a family relic, that's treason against the Don."

"I know the laws of my own family, Rocco."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Lock down the estate. Nobody enters. Nobody leaves."

My father, the Don, had a paranoid streak. When he gifted me the crown on my wedding day, he mentioned the custom modifications. A GPS tracker embedded deep inside the platinum base. Julian knew nothing about it.

I opened the tracking app on my phone. A red dot blinked on the map.

Moving south. Toward the coast.

I took the stairs two at a time. I grabbed my trench coat from the hallway hook and snatched the keys to the Aston Martin from the silver bowl.

I slid into the driver's seat