Chapter 1: The Terms — Dante

2:47 a.m. — Dante's house, Loose Park.My daughter is shaking in my arms, and my phone will not stop buzzing.Millie is five years old. She woke up screaming ten minutes ago. Now she is pressed against my chest, small and hot, still hiccupping."Tell me again," she whispers."There was a scraping sound in your dream. It came to your door. Then I came in, and it ran away.""Because you came.""Because I came."She believes that. I want to keep believing it too. But my phone keeps lighting up in my pocket, and the light flashes across her wet cheek, so I hold it face-down until she falls asleep.Then I read the messages.MARC: One of our vending trucks is on fire on Sixth Street. Right now.MARC: Driver got out. He's fine. Scared, but fine.MARC: Dante. Somebody did this on purpose.My name is Dante Vescari. I am the second-in-command of the Cortese family in Kansas City. To most of the city, we are a vending machine company. Behind that, we are something older and colder.Fourteen mont

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

Chapter 2: Sold at Dinner — Aubrey

7:00 p.m. — Ward Parkway house, the dining room.The night my parents sell me, Mom makes Dad's favorite meal.I know something is wrong before I even sit down. Roast chicken. Real candles. Dad's suit jacket off and folded over his chair like he plans to stay a long time. Dad is always home at seven, but he is never nervous at seven. He keeps looking at the window."You're staring, sweetheart," Mom says."You told me to get dressed for dinner. We eat pizza on Tuesdays.""Not tonight," Dad says quietly.I'm twenty years old. I paint. I fail my Pilates class. My biggest problem this week is that I spilled turpentine on my only good jeans. So when my father folds his hands and says, "We have news," I laugh."You're pregnant," I say. "Gross. Congratulations."Dad doesn't laugh. That kills the laugh in my throat."We've made a decision about your future," he says.My fork stops halfway to my mouth. "Okay. Say it.""You're going to marry Dante Vescari."The name drops into the room like a ro

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

Chapter 3: Fire From the Inside — Dante

Wednesday, 7:00 a.m. — Doyle's Garage, Brooklyn Avenue, East Side.Marc's garage smells like motor oil and burnt coffee. It's the only place in this city where nobody watches us. That's why he wouldn't talk on the phone. "Not over the phone," he'd said. "Come to the garage."Marc Doyle has been my right hand since we were seventeen. Buzz cut, flannel shirt, forearms like steel cable. Today he looks like a man who didn't sleep — and like the thing he found kept him up.Under the work light sits what's left of Truck 12. A black shell. Melted tires. The paint burned down to bare metal. I look at it for one second too long, and I'm back in a hospital hallway fourteen months ago, looking at photographs of another wreck."Alonzo's okay," Marc says. "Shook. He quit on the spot.""Show me."He turns an old laptop around on the workbench. "Corner store on Sixth Street. There's a camera behind the beer sign in the window. Nobody knows it's there. Not even the O'Fallons."The video is gray and g

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

Chapter 4: Follow the Lincoln — Aubrey

7:50 a.m. — Ward Parkway house, kitchen.Friday. My father eats his eggs in his dark suit, with his briefcase standing by the door like a third guest."Meetings downtown," he says. "I'll be back by two.""What meetings?" Mom asks. She doesn't look up from her coffee."Trust things."The answer is ready. Too ready. When Mom asks about groceries, he has to think. When she asks about his morning, the sentence was already built.Dad rinses his plate, kisses the top of my head, and holds on one second longer than usual."Be good, Aubrey-girl.""I'm always good.""Don't I know it," he says, and something in his voice bends on the words.The door closes. His Lincoln rolls down the drive. Mom stares at the window like she's counting something.I look at my planner. My only class today is a one o'clock lecture. His "meeting" is this morning.My father taught me to drive in this neighborhood when I was sixteen. He said the same thing every lesson: "Check your mirrors twice. Once for cars. Once

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

Chapter 5: Two Watchers — Dante

Friday, 9:20 p.m. — Loose Park house, kitchen.The baby monitor sits on my kitchen counter, glowing green. Millie is asleep. Three good nights in a row now. I'd trade every truck in the fleet to keep it that way.Marc spreads a folder across my kitchen table like he's dealing cards."Three days on Edmund Hale," he says. "Wednesday, office to lunch to home. Thursday, same. Boring. Today, not boring."He lays the photos out in a row.Sam Colton drives my gray pickup. Best mechanic I have and a better shadow. He sat across from the plaza in front of the federal courthouse all morning with a camera under a moving blanket."Nine fifty-five, a man sits on the bench by the fountain," Marc says. "Silver hair. Charcoal suit. Edmund arrives at nine fifty-eight. They talk for nine minutes. Then Edmund walks into the courthouse and comes out at twelve forty, alone, and the briefcase looks heavier than it did going in."I pick up the third photo.The silver-haired man is standing, buttoning his co

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

Chapter 6: Everyone at That Table Is Lying — Aubrey

Tuesday, 6:10 p.m. — Ward Parkway house, my bedroom.Mom zips me into a blue dress and steams the wrinkles out with her hands."Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile like you mean it.""Which lie is tonight?" I ask."Aubrey." She says my name like a warning, checks my collar, and leaves.I scrub my hands at the sink until the last blue paint is gone. Then I make my rules, because rules are the only thing I have left.Rule one: smile. Rule two: say little. Rule three: watch everything.Dad waits at the front door in his gray suit, keys in his fist, eyes anywhere but me."You look beautiful," he says."Thank you," I say, and it's the first lie we've ever traded at the door.* * *7:00 p.m. — Mission Hills mansion, the dining room.The dining room is the size of our whole downstairs. One long table. White candles. A wall of windows going black with night.The Don sits at the head of the table in his wheelchair, gray blanket over his knees, sharp eyes over a water glass. On his right, Pietro

Last Updated : 2026-09-17

All Chapters of The Underboss’s Little Liar: Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

Chapter 1: The Terms — Dante

Chapter 2: Sold at Dinner — Aubrey

Chapter 3: Fire From the Inside — Dante

Chapter 4: Follow the Lincoln — Aubrey

Chapter 5: Two Watchers — Dante

Chapter 6: Everyone at That Table Is Lying — Aubrey