My mafia boss husband had just admitted that someone in our house ordered my mother's murder. -

Chapter 2 – THE SIGNATURE IN THE DARK

The ballroom music suddenly sounded like a funeral dirge.

I stared at Claire. My baby sister. The girl I had braided hair for, the girl I had shielded when our father walked out on us. She stood there in a silk evening gown, her pregnant belly pushing against the fabric, looking at me not with guilt, but with a cold, terrifying pity.

“What did you just say to me?” I whispered.

Claire stepped closer, adjusting a diamond bracelet on her wrist. The same bracelet Vincent had told me was a ‘business expense’ last Christmas.

“Don’t make a scene, Evelyn,” Claire said softly, glancing around at the oblivious guests. “Vincent and I have been very patient. We waited for Anthony to be old enough to understand.”

Anthony gripped my arm. His hands were shaking. “Mom, let’s get out of here.”

“You aren’t going anywhere, Anthony,” Claire said, her voice sweet but laced with steel. “You belong with your family.”

“I am his family!” I hissed, stepping between my sister and my son. “I am his mother.”

Claire tilted her head. “Are you? Because according to the surrogacy contract you signed seventeen years ago, you relinquished all maternal rights.”

The room spun. “I never signed a surrogacy contract. I gave birth to him!”

“You signed a medical waiver during your emergency C-section,” Claire corrected smoothly. “Or at least, that’s what Vincent told you it was. You were heavily medicated. The courts will see a legally binding agreement transferring custody to Vincent. And as his legal wife…” She patted her stomach. “…I will be stepping in as his mother.”

My blood turned to ice. Eight years ago. That was when I had that severe pneumonia. Vincent had brought a stack of ‘insurance’ papers to my hospital bed. I had trusted him. I had signed them all.

I looked at Anthony. He was seventeen, practically a man, but in that moment, he looked like a terrified little boy.

“They’re trying to erase me,” I realized aloud. “Mom found out. That’s why Dominic killed her.”

Claire’s smile faltered. “Dominic is a thug. Vincent didn’t want it to go that far. But your mother was always too nosy.”

I didn’t think. I just acted.

I grabbed a heavy crystal champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray and smashed it against the edge of the grand piano. The music screeched to a halt. The guests gasped.

I held the jagged glass toward Claire.

“Mom!” Anthony yelled.

“Run, Anthony,” I ordered, not taking my eyes off my sister. “Go to the car. Now.”

Claire backed away, genuine fear finally crossing her face. “Evelyn, you’re crazy!”

“I’m a mother,” I said quietly.

As Anthony bolted for the side exit, I threw the broken glass at Claire’s feet and ran after him. We burst into the cool night air, sprinting across the manicured lawns of the estate.

We reached my Mercedes. I fumbled for the keys, my hands shaking violently.

Just as I unlocked the doors, a heavy hand slammed onto the hood of the car.

It was Dominic. His gun was drawn.

“Get in the car, Evelyn,” Dominic said gruffly.

“You killed my mother,” I screamed, tears finally spilling over. “Shoot me right now, you coward!”

Dominic didn’t shoot. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a worn, silver locket. My mother’s locket. The one she wore every day of her life.

He tossed it onto the hood of the car.

“I didn’t kill your mother, Evelyn,” Dominic said, his eyes filled with a dark, haunted regret. “Vincent did. And if you want to keep your son alive tonight, you’re going to let me help you destroy him.”