Chapter 3 – THE TORN PHOTOGRAPH

The engagement ring on Anna’s finger suddenly looked like a shackle.

Everyone turned to look at David, the handsome, successful architect Anna had brought home six months ago.

David took a step back, holding his hands up defensively. “Anna, what are you talking about? I’m David.”

“Are you?” Caterina asked.

She walked past me, past the shattered silver watch, and stopped right in front of David.

“You look exactly like your father,” Caterina said softly.

David’s face hardened. The loving, gentle fiancé mask slipped, revealing something cold and calculating underneath.

“You should have stayed in Italy, Caterina,” David said. His voice was no longer warm. It was flat. Dead.

Anna let out a terrified sob, backing away from him. “Dad? What is happening?!”

Vincent was staring at David with absolute horror. “You… you’re Antonio’s boy.”

“Antonio?” I asked, my head spinning.

“The man who ordered the hit on Marco,” Vincent whispered, his eyes locked on David. “The boss of the Chicago syndicate.”

David adjusted his cuffs, perfectly calm in the center of the chaos.

“My father is dying, Vincent,” David said smoothly. “He wants to ensure the family assets are secure before he passes. And since you control half the waterfront… he decided a merger was necessary.”

I felt sick. “You targeted my daughter? To steal my husband’s business?”

David finally looked at me. “I didn’t target her, Evelyn. I was invited.”

He looked at Vincent.

“Isn’t that right, Vince?”

Vincent squeezed his eyes shut.

“Vincent?” I asked, my voice rising. “Did you introduce them?”

“He owed my father,” David smiled. “A very large debt. We told him he could pay with the waterfront properties, or he could pay with a marriage into our family.”

“You sold our daughter?” I screamed, lunging at Vincent.

He caught my wrists, tears streaming down his face. “I was trying to keep us alive, Evie! If I didn’t give them Anna, they were going to kill all of us!”

“Don’t touch me!” I ripped my hands away from him.

Serena was sobbing on the floor, clutching her knees, realizing the man she had been sleeping with for three years was her own uncle. Caterina was kneeling beside her, trying to comfort the daughter she had given away thirty-two years ago.

David sighed, looking at his watch.

“This is all very dramatic, but the contracts have already been signed, Vincent.” David looked at Anna. “We’re leaving. Get your coat.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Anna cried.

David reached into his tailored jacket.

For a terrifying second, I thought he was pulling a gun.

Instead, he pulled out a torn, faded photograph.

He held it up for Anna to see.

I couldn’t see the front of the picture, but I saw Anna’s reaction.

All the defiance drained from her face. She stopped crying. She stopped breathing. She just stared at the photograph in absolute terror.

“Get your coat, Anna,” David repeated softly.

Anna looked at me, her eyes dead.

“Mom. I have to go.”

“No!” I grabbed her arm. “Anna, what is in that picture? What is he threatening you with?”

Anna shook her head. “I love you, Mom. I’m sorry.”

She pulled away from me and walked toward the man whose family had murdered her uncle.

David smiled politely at me, tucked the torn photograph back into his pocket, and escorted my daughter out of the ballroom.

I turned to Vincent, my chest heaving.

“What did he show her?” I demanded.

Vincent was staring at the doors they had just walked through. He looked like a man who had just realized he had built his entire life on quicksand.

“I don’t know,” Vincent whispered.

But Caterina stood up, leaving Serena on the floor.

“I do,” Caterina said.

She looked at me.

“Evelyn. The baby Anna lost in February?”

I nodded, terrified.

Caterina swallowed hard.

“She didn’t lose it. It was born alive. And David’s family has it.”

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