Chapter 2 – The Boy With The Gray Eyes
Adrian stared at the polaroid.
The little boy in the picture had a small, familiar scar above his left eyebrow. Adrian’s fingers traced the edge of the photograph.
“June,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Is this…?”
June squeezed her eyes shut. Tears spilled down her wrinkled cheeks.
“I promised,” she sobbed. “I swore on your mother’s grave I would never tell you.”
Celeste crossed her arms, looking vindicated. “She’s been hiding your brother’s son, Adrian. For seven years.”
The room erupted into murmurs.
Adrian’s older brother, Dominic, had died in a violent car explosion seven years ago. The tragedy had forced Adrian to take over the family syndicate. We all knew the story. Dominic died alone. He had no wife. No children.
Or so everyone thought.
“Dominic had a son?” Adrian’s voice was hollow. He looked at June, begging for it to be a lie.
“His name is Leo,” June whispered, trembling violently. “Dominic brought him to me in the middle of the night. Three days before the explosion.”
I watched Adrian’s chest heave. The formidable mafia boss looked completely shattered.
“Why?” Adrian asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Dominic knew there was a mole,” June cried out. “He knew someone in the family sold him out to the Romanos. He didn’t know who to trust. Not even you, Adrian. He said if anyone found out about Leo, the boy would be killed.”
Adrian stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the dining table. The champagne glasses clinked dangerously.
“You let me mourn him,” Adrian gasped, staring at the old woman he loved like a mother. “You watched me bury an empty casket, and you never said a word.”
“I was protecting the child!” June pleaded, reaching out a shaking hand. “Just like I protected you!”
“Oh, please,” Celeste scoffed. “You’re a traitor, June. You’ve been living off Dominic’s secret stash while letting Adrian fund your lifestyle.”
“That’s enough, Celeste,” Adrian snapped.
He didn’t look at June anymore. The warmth in his eyes had turned into a terrifying, icy void.
“Where is the boy now?” Adrian demanded.
“He’s safe,” June said quietly.
“I didn’t ask how he was. I asked where he is.”
“I won’t tell you,” June said, her voice suddenly finding its strength. “Not until I know it’s safe.”
Adrian’s jaw locked. He turned to Marcus. “Put the estate on lockdown. Nobody leaves. Not until I have my nephew.”
Celeste smiled smugly. “Good. Finally, you’re acting like the head of this family.”
She turned to walk away, assuming her place by his side was secure again.
But as she moved, her evening coat slipped from the back of her chair and fell to the floor.
I hurried forward to pick it up. It was my job, after all.
But as I lifted the heavy velvet coat, something slipped out of the deep pocket and hit the marble floor with a heavy metallic clack.
It was a man’s silver pocket watch.
I recognized it instantly. It was the same watch Dominic Falcone had worn in every portrait hanging in the manor’s west wing. The watch that was supposedly lost in the explosion.
I froze, kneeling on the floor, staring at it.
Celeste spun around, her face draining of all color.
“Give me that,” she hissed, lunging toward me.
But Adrian was faster. He stepped forward, his heavy shoe landing right next to my hand, trapping the watch on the floor.
He looked down at the silver timepiece, then slowly lifted his gaze to his fiancée.
“Celeste,” Adrian said softly. “Why do you have my dead brother’s watch?”
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