*THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME HELP AN ELDERLY MAN HOLD A GLASS OF WATER AT HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “HE’S BEEN DRINKING AGAIN,” BEFORE LUCA EVEN ASKED WHY THE OLD MAN COULDN’T GET HIS WORDS OUT. “Put the glass down, Arthur.”

Chapter 2 – THE BOY IN THE DOORWAY

The crystal chandeliers seemed to dim as all the oxygen left the dining room.

“Mommy?” the little boy asked again, his small voice trembling.

Vanessa took a step backward, bumping into the dining table. A crystal wineglass tipped over, shattering on the marble floor.

“Get him out of here!” Vanessa screamed, pointing at the child. “I don’t know who that is!”

The little boy flinched, hiding behind the leg of the heavily tattooed man.

Luca didn’t look at Vanessa. He walked slowly toward the door, his eyes fixed on the man holding the child’s hand.

“Marcus,” Luca said. The name sounded like a curse.

The tattooed man smiled. He had a scar running down the left side of his face. “Hello, Luca. Nice engagement party. Shame I didn’t get an invite.”

“You were banished from Chicago five years ago,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. “If my men find you on this property, you’re a dead man.”

“I’m not here for trouble,” Marcus laughed, though his eyes were cold. “I’m just here to drop off a package. The kid’s boarding school tuition bounced. They called his emergency contact. Imagine my surprise when I found out my little brother’s fiancée is the mother.”

The guests were frozen.

I knelt on the floor beside Arthur. The old man was weeping silently, his trembling hand covering his face.

I looked down at the silver key he had pressed into my palm. Protect the boy.

“He’s lying!” Vanessa shrieked. “Luca, he’s trying to ruin us! That isn’t my child!”

“He has your eyes, Vanessa,” Luca said, not looking away from Marcus. “And apparently, he has my money.”

Luca turned back to the dining table. He picked up the insurance document.

“Eighty-five thousand dollars,” Luca read. “Wired to Whitmore Holdings. Is Whitmore the name of the boarding school, Marcus?”

“No,” Marcus smiled. “Whitmore is the name of my bookie in Vegas. Vanessa owes him a lot of money.”

My stomach turned.

Vanessa hadn’t just stolen her father’s life savings. She had used it to pay off a gambling debt to Luca’s exiled brother.

And she had abandoned a seven-year-old child to do it.

“You used your stroke-recovering father to fund your gambling,” Luca said. The absolute disgust in his voice made Vanessa sob.

“I had to!” she cried. “Marcus threatened me! He said he would tell you about Leo if I didn’t pay him!”

“So you stole from an old man who rides the bus,” Luca said.

Luca turned to his head of security, Daniel, who had just stepped into the room with his hand resting on his holstered weapon.

“Get the guests out,” Luca ordered. “Now.”

Within sixty seconds, the dining room was cleared.

It was just Luca, Vanessa, Arthur, Marcus, the little boy, and me.

I tried to quietly slip away, but Arthur gripped my apron strings. His hand was surprisingly strong. He didn’t want me to leave him.

“Hannah, stay,” Luca commanded softly, noticing the old man’s grip.

Marcus let go of the little boy’s hand. “Well, I’ve delivered the kid. My debt with Vanessa is settled. I’ll be going.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Marcus,” Luca said. “Daniel. Take him to the basement.”

Marcus’s smile vanished. He reached for his jacket, but Daniel was faster. The security chief slammed Marcus against the mahogany doorframe, disarming him in a second.

As they dragged Marcus away, the little boy began to cry.

He dropped his teddy bear and covered his ears.

Vanessa didn’t move toward him. She stood frozen, staring at the floor.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke protocol. I let go of Arthur’s hand, walked across the marble floor, and knelt in front of the sobbing child.

“Hey,” I whispered softly. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

He peeked through his fingers. “L-Leo.”

“I’m Hannah. You have a very cool Batman shirt, Leo.”

He sniffled. “Mommy gave it to me. A long time ago.”

He looked past me, toward Vanessa. “Mommy, are you mad at me?”

Vanessa closed her eyes and turned her head away.

It was the most heartless thing I had ever seen.

I felt a massive presence behind me. Luca crouched down next to me. His large, tattooed hand gently picked up the dropped teddy bear.

“Here you go, Leo,” Luca said, his voice incredibly soft.

Leo took the bear, looking at Luca with wide, terrified eyes.

Luca stood up and turned to Vanessa.

“The engagement is over,” Luca said.

Vanessa gasped, falling to her knees. “Luca, please! I love you! I can fix this!”

“Get out of my house.”

“What about Leo?!” she cried. “I can’t afford to take care of him!”

“You’re right,” Luca said coldly. “You can’t. Which is why he’s staying here. With his grandfather.”

Vanessa stared at him in shock.

Arthur looked up, his eyes widening. “With… me?”

“Yes, Arthur,” Luca said gently. “If you want him.”

Arthur began crying again. He nodded frantically, holding his shaking arms out to the little boy.

Leo ran past his mother and buried his face in his grandfather’s gray suit jacket.

Vanessa slowly stood up. The desperate, weeping woman was gone. Her face hardened into something ugly and dangerous.

“You think you’re so righteous, Luca,” Vanessa sneered. She looked at me, kneeling on the floor. “And you. You think you’re the hero for holding an old man’s water glass?”

She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me.

“Ask Luca how he made his money,” Vanessa spat. “Ask him who owned the building that burned down on 4th Street last year. The one where your father died, Hannah.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Luca went completely rigid.

“Get her out,” Luca roared.

As the guards dragged a screaming Vanessa through the front doors, I slowly stood up.

I looked at the mafia boss I had served for three years.

“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What does she mean?”

Luca couldn’t look me in the eye.

Instead, he looked at the silver key Arthur had given me.

“It means,” Luca said heavily, “that Vanessa just signed her own death warrant.”

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