I pushed the heavy leather-bound ledger into the dark opening.

It slid down the smooth tin lining with a soft, muffled scrape.

I held my breath, waiting for the heavy thud of it hitting the bin at the bottom of the basement stairs.

The sound was barely a whisper.

I clicked the brass latch back into place just as a shadow stretched across the floor from the main hallway.

I wiped my damp palms on my white apron and forced my breathing to slow down.

I took three steps away from the chute, pulling a clean cotton rag from my pocket.

My knees felt weak, but I stood straight against the wall, rubbing the wood paneling as if polishing a spot.

The heavy thud of leather boots grew louder.

Luca Romano appeared at the top of the stairs first.

His dark hair was slicked back, and his wool coat was damp from the rain outside.

Two of his personal guards followed him, their faces expressionless, their hands resting near their waistbands.

Sofia Romano was right behind them, her face pale, her fingers clutching the sleeve of Luca’s coat.