I walked into one of Manhattan’s most expensive restaurants with a hungry baby strapped to my chest and asked a stranger if we could eat whatever he left behind. I had no idea the irritated man staring back at me was an mafia boss—or that my quiet request was about to expose just how desperate life had become.

Two weeks later, Grandma Rose needed a specialized heart scan at New York Presbyterian Hospital. Vincent insisted on double security, assigning four armed bodyguards and two armored SUVs to escort us.

"Stay inside the vehicle until Dante gives the clear," Vincent instructed me before we left, tightening my scarf around my neck. "Do you understand, Lily?"

"I understand, Vincent."

The trip to the hospital went smoothly, but on the return journey, heavy snowfall slowed traffic to a crawl on the highway.

Suddenly, a heavy black truck slammed into the side of our lead SUV!

The impact echoed like a gunshot. Glass shattered, and alarms blared.

"Get down!" Dante barked from the front seat, drawing his weapon instantly. "Lily, cover the baby!"

I threw my body over Eli’s car seat, squeezing my eyes shut as the sound of automatic gunfire broke out in the snowstorm. My heart hammered against my ribs, but all I could think about was protecting Eli.

"Dante!" Grandma Rose cried out.

"Stay down, ma'am! We’re surrounded!"