Chapter 1 - THE DEAD MAN WHO OPENED HIS EYES
At 11:42 P.M., Chicago's most feared mafia boss was pronounced dead, and his trusted underboss began stealing his billion-dollar empire before his body was even cold. But while everyone abandoned him, I was the only maid who dared climb onto his freezing steel table and hold him through the night. Hours later, I felt his dead fingers squeeze mine, just as the man who wanted him buried unlocked the door.
My name is Matilda Higgins. I'm twenty-six, and until that night, I was nothing more than a maid in Gabriel Falcone's mansion.
To everyone else, Gabriel was a monster. A ruthless mafia king who controlled half of Chicago.
But to me, he was the only man who had ever defended me.
I still remembered the afternoon his underboss, Carmine, deliberately tripped me while I carried expensive crystal glasses.
I crashed onto the marble floor.
Everyone laughed.
"Clumsy little servant," Carmine sneered.
Then Gabriel stood.
"Get on your knees and apologize to her."
The room fell silent.
Carmine's smile vanished.
"Boss, she's only a maid."
Gabriel stepped closer.
"And you're only breathing because I allow it."
Carmine apologized immediately.
Gabriel helped me stand, gently removing a shard of glass from my trembling hand.
"Never let anyone convince you that you're worthless, Matilda."
I never forgot those words.
Three months later, Gabriel was ambushed at his warehouse.
Three poisoned bullets tore through his body.
His private surgeons fought for hours, but at 11:42 P.M., they declared him dead.
By midnight, Carmine was already dividing Gabriel's empire among his allies.
Nobody cried.
Nobody questioned anything.
At 2 A.M., I entered the deserted medical wing.
Gabriel lay beneath a white sheet, abandoned on a freezing steel table.
I pulled back the covering.
His beautiful face was pale. His lips had turned blue.
"Oh, Mr. Falcone," I whispered. "You deserved better than this."
I climbed beside him and wrapped my arms around his lifeless body.
"You protected me when nobody else would. Tonight, I won't leave you alone."
For two hours, I held him.
I told him stories. I cried against his chest. I begged God for a miracle.
Then, at 4:15 A.M., something interrupted the silence.
Thump.
I stopped breathing.
Another faint beat followed.
His heart.
Impossible.
I pressed my ear against his chest.
"Gabriel?"
Suddenly, footsteps approached.
Carmine's voice echoed outside.
"Put him in the body bag. No more examinations."
A doctor whispered, "But sir, shouldn't we confirm?"
"I said NO MORE EXAMINATIONS!"
My blood ran cold.
They hadn't simply abandoned Gabriel.
They wanted him buried before anyone discovered the truth.
I reached for the emergency button.
Then Gabriel's fingers twitched beneath mine.
I leaned toward his ear.
"Please, don't move. They're coming."
The lock clicked.
The door handle turned.
And suddenly, his icy hand tightened around mine.
Then, for the first time since his death, Gabriel opened his eyes.
But instead of speaking, he pulled me closer and whispered three terrifying words.
"Matilda... trust no one."
And the door swung open.
Carmine entered with two guards and a physician whose face had the gray, exhausted look of a man who hadn't slept in days.
I lowered my head over Gabriel's chest, hiding his open eyes behind my hair.
"What the hell are you doing?" Carmine demanded.
"Praying."
"On the table?"
I swallowed. "He was kind to me."
Carmine laughed.
"Kind? Gabriel Falcone?"
The physician moved toward us.
"Miss, you need to step away."
Beneath the sheet, Gabriel's fingers tightened around my wrist.
I understood the warning.
If I moved, they would see.
If they saw, they would finish what the bullets had started.
"Please," I whispered. "Just one more minute."
Carmine checked his watch.
"You have ten seconds."
The physician reached for Gabriel's neck.
My heart nearly stopped.
Then the doctor froze.
His fingers remained against Gabriel's skin.
He had felt it.
The pulse.
His eyes widened.
Carmine noticed.
"What?"
The physician slowly turned.
"I need to repeat the examination."
Carmine's expression changed.
"No."
"Sir, there's a possibility—"
"I said he's dead."
The physician took a step backward.
I looked at him.
For one terrible second, I thought he would obey.
Instead, he reached toward the wall-mounted emergency telephone.
Carmine drew a pistol.
"Don't."
The physician stopped.
The room became absolutely silent.
Then Gabriel moved.
His left hand emerged from beneath the sheet and closed around Carmine's wrist.
Carmine screamed.
The gun fell.
Gabriel's voice was barely audible.
"You should have checked twice."
May you like
Carmine stumbled backward.
And the man Chicago believed was dead looked directly into his betrayer's eyes.
