Chapter 1 – The Missing Envelopes

The dining room went dead silent.

Vanessa’s face turned completely white. She looked at the thirty powerful guests sitting around the table, but nobody offered her a sympathetic smile.

Luca took a slow step toward his fiancée.

“Answer the question, Vanessa,” he said, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm.

“Luca, please,” she whispered, her confidence shattering. “You’re making a scene. I was only trying to streamline the household budget. We’re preparing for a wedding. The catering costs alone are astronomical.”

Luca didn’t blink.

“You canceled the staff meals to pay for your wedding cake?”

Vanessa took a step back, her red satin gown rustling against the expensive Persian rug. “I didn’t say that. I just thought they were taking advantage of your generosity. You’re a businessman, Luca. You understand.”

“I understand loyalty,” Luca corrected her, his voice cold enough to freeze water. “My father built this empire on the promise that anyone who works under this roof is treated like family. You broke that promise, and you used my name to do it.”

He looked at Marco.

“Marco. What else?”

Marco hesitated, glancing nervously at Vanessa.

“Tell me,” Luca commanded.

“The holiday bonuses, sir,” Marco said quietly. “They were supposed to be distributed last week. Mrs. Bellini said you decided to suspend them this year.”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

The holiday bonus. It was the only reason I had been able to afford winter coats for Lily the past two years. When I was told the bonuses were canceled, I had cried in the laundry room for an hour, terrified of how I was going to pay the December rent.

Luca turned to Vanessa.

“Did you suspend the bonuses?” he asked softly.

Vanessa’s lips trembled. “Luca, the flower arrangements for the ceremony were imported from Milan. I had to reallocate the funds.”

“You stole from my staff to buy flowers,” Luca stated.

“They are just maids and drivers!” Vanessa snapped, panic finally breaking her composure. “They don’t need a bonus! You’re the Don of the Chicago Syndicate! Why are you humiliating me over people who clean your toilets?!”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Luca didn’t yell. He didn’t raise a hand.

He simply reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Vanessa gasped, a sudden, desperate smile flashing across her face. “Luca?”

He opened the box.

Inside was the massive diamond engagement ring he had given her three months ago.

“I noticed you weren’t wearing this when you arrived tonight,” Luca said.

Vanessa touched her bare left hand. “I took it off to get a manicure today. I must have left it upstairs.”

“You didn’t leave it upstairs,” Luca said, his voice void of any emotion. “I found it in the safe in your father’s office this afternoon.”

Vanessa froze.

The guests murmured nervously.

“Your father used it as collateral to secure a loan from the Volkov family,” Luca continued, turning the box around so everyone could see the ring. “The Bellini family is bankrupt, Vanessa.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“That’s a lie!” Vanessa screamed, tears springing to her eyes. “My father is wealthy! We don’t need your money!”

“Your father owes the Russians three million dollars,” Luca said smoothly. “He arranged this marriage because he knew once you were my wife, I would pay his debts to avoid a war.”

Luca snapped the velvet box shut.

“You didn’t cancel the staff bonuses to buy flowers from Milan, Vanessa,” Luca said. “You canceled them because you’ve been funneling household funds into a private account to pay off your father’s debt before I found out.”

Vanessa collapsed into her chair, sobbing openly.

“Luca, please,” she cried. “If the Volkovs don’t get their money, they’ll kill him!”

Luca looked down at her with absolute disgust.

“Then he should have asked for my help,” Luca said. “Instead, you stole from the people who keep my house running. You stole food from a seven-year-old girl.”

He turned to his security chief standing by the door.

“Escort Mrs. Bellini out,” Luca ordered. “The engagement is broken. And tell her father he has twenty-four hours to leave Chicago.”

The security men stepped forward. Vanessa screamed and thrashed as they grabbed her arms, dragging her out of the dining room in her ruined red gown.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind her.

The dining room was perfectly silent.

Luca turned back to the table. He looked at the thirty wealthy guests, who were all staring at him in shock.

“The dinner is over,” Luca announced. “Good evening.”

Within two minutes, the room was empty.

I stood by the serving station, still holding the small blue lunchbox with the seven pink candles inside. My heart was pounding so hard my ribs ached.

Luca ran a hand through his dark hair, looking incredibly tired. He walked over to me.

“Claire,” he said softly.

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with tears. “Yes, sir?”

“I am so sorry,” he whispered.

He didn’t sound like a mafia boss. He sounded like a man who was deeply, profoundly ashamed.

“You don’t have to apologize, sir,” I said, wiping my face.

“Yes, I do,” Luca insisted. “I let that woman run my household, and she made you believe I didn’t care about you or your daughter.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope.

“This is your holiday bonus,” Luca said, handing it to me. “And your back pay for the meals you missed. Tomorrow, Marco is doubling the salaries of every staff member in this house.”

I took the envelope with trembling hands. “Mr. Moretti, this is too much.”

“It’s not enough,” he corrected me.

He looked at his watch.

“It’s eight o’clock,” Luca said. “Is Lily still awake?”

I nodded. “She usually waits up for me on her birthday.”

Luca turned to Marco.

“Marco. Get the car,” Luca commanded. “And bring the cake.”

Marco smiled. “Which one, Boss?”

“The big one,” Luca said.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a bulletproof black SUV with the Don of the Chicago Syndicate. Sitting on the seat between us was a massive, three-tiered chocolate cake decorated with gold leaf and pink frosting.

When we pulled up to my small, run-down apartment building, Luca insisted on carrying the cake himself.

I unlocked the door to our tiny apartment.

“Lily?” I called out. “Mommy’s home!”

My seven-year-old daughter ran out of her bedroom, wearing oversized pajamas and holding a faded stuffed rabbit.

“Mommy!” she cheered, running into my arms.

I picked her up and hugged her tightly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Lily looked over my shoulder and gasped.

Standing in our small, cramped living room was a tall man in an expensive black suit, holding the most beautiful cake she had ever seen.

“Are you a prince?” Lily whispered, her eyes wide.

Luca smiled, a genuine, warm smile that completely transformed his face.

“No, Lily,” Luca said gently. “I’m just a guy who works with your mom. She told me you like chocolate.”

He set the cake on our small kitchen table.

Lily ran over, her eyes sparkling. “It’s so big! Thank you!”

Then, she looked back at me, her little brow furrowing in confusion.

“Mommy, where is the other man?” she asked.

I frowned. “What other man, baby?”

Lily pointed to the window.

“The man who gave me the present,” she said innocently.

Luca froze.

“Lily,” I said, my heart suddenly racing. “What present? Did someone come inside the apartment?”

Lily shook her head. “No. He slid it under the door while I was waiting for you.”

She ran into her bedroom and came back holding a small, heavy silver coin.

I took it from her. It looked old. Tarnished.

I turned it over.

Stamped into the center of the silver coin was a crest. A two-headed eagle.

Luca saw it, and the color completely drained from his face.

“Where did you get that?” Luca asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

Lily stepped behind my leg, scared by his tone.

Luca knelt down, forcing his expression to soften. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you tell me what the man looked like?”

Lily peeked around my leg.

“I didn’t see his face,” she whispered. “But he had a strange tattoo on his hand. A black snake eating its own tail.”

Luca stood up slowly.

“The Volkovs,” Luca breathed.

He looked at me, a terrifying realization dawning in his dark eyes.

“Claire,” Luca said softly. “The Russians didn’t just loan Vanessa’s father money. They knew about the engagement. They’ve been watching my house.”

He looked down at the silver coin.

“This is a death mark,” Luca explained, his voice thick with dread. “They left it for my fiancée. But they didn’t know I broke the engagement tonight.”

I stared at him, my blood running cold.

“They saw a woman leave my house, get into my car, and come to this apartment,” Luca said.

He looked toward the window.

“They think you’re Vanessa.”