My fiancée told me Bruno had wandered away because he was old and probably went somewhere quiet to die. Then my maid’s three-year-old daughter shook her head and whispered, “No. They put Bruno in the black car.” I almost dismissed the words of a toddler, until one tiny detail at my back gate told me someone inside my own house had lied to me.

I stood in the freezing rain and stared at the broken silver clasp resting in my palm.

The thick metal had been forcibly snapped by a pair of heavy bolt cutters.

My massive Neapolitan mastiff had not simply wandered away to die in peace.

Someone inside my own home had intentionally removed his collar and smuggled him out.

I squeezed the cold metal in my fist and marched back toward the main house.

The massive stone mansion felt entirely different to me now.

It was no longer a sanctuary, but a crime scene filled with liars.

I bypassed the grand staircase and headed straight for the basement security room.

The heavy steel door was supposed to be locked at all times.

Instead, I found it slightly ajar.

I pushed my way inside and sat at the glowing bank of surveillance monitors.

My fingers flew across the keyboard as I pulled up the archives for the previous night.

I selected the camera feed for the rear gate at exactly 10:14 p.m.

The screen flickered violently and then displayed a harsh block of white static.

Someone had manually deleted exactly ten minutes of footage from the encrypted hard drive.

Only two people in the world had the administrative passwords required to alter those specific files.

One was me, and the other was my fiancée, Vivienne.

My blood ran completely cold as the horrifying reality of the situation set in.

I left the security room and quietly climbed the back stairs to our master bedroom.

Vivienne was currently in the parlor, entertaining guests who had stopped by to offer their fake sympathies.

I walked straight into her massive walk-in closet and began tearing through her designer handbags.

I didn't know what I was looking for until my hand brushed against a small, velvet pouch.

I opened the pouch and pulled out a heavy glass vial filled with a clear liquid.

The label indicated it was an incredibly potent, military-grade animal tranquilizer.

There was enough sedative in this small bottle to completely incapacitate a fully grown lion.

My beautiful, elegant fiancée had drugged my best friend before dragging him out into the night.

I shoved the vial into my pocket, my mind racing with a terrifying question.

Why would a woman who had millions of dollars at her disposal risk everything just to steal a dog?

I turned to leave the closet, but my foot bumped against a loose wooden floorboard.

I knelt down and pried the polished oak plank away with my bare hands.

Hidden in the dark cavity beneath the floor was a cheap, untraceable burner phone.

The Mafia Boss Asked a Disabled Widow If She Was Okay

“Who taught you those words?”

“SIR... MY MOMMY NEEDS A BOYFRIEND.”

I pressed the power button, and the screen illuminated to reveal a single unread text message.

The message read, "The beast is secured, but you need to eliminate Adrian before midnight tomorrow."

Chapter 1 - The Broken Clasp