Chapter 1 – THE SILVER KEY ON A TARNISHED CHAIN

The ballroom was completely silent.

Sebastian didn’t blink.

He stared at Florence, his broad shoulders suddenly rigid.

“What did she ask for, Miss Flo?”

Bianca stepped forward, her voice rising in a desperate, sharp pitch.

“Sebastian, this woman is senile. I went to her apartment to ensure she had proper transportation today. That is all.”

Florence didn’t flinch.

She reached into the pocket of her faded green coat.

Her knuckles were white, trembling slightly with age, but her voice was steady.

“She came looking for the silver key.”

Sebastian’s breath hitched.

The color drained from his face.

For a man who controlled the Chicago underworld, I had never seen him look so utterly shaken.

“My mother’s key?” he whispered. “My father told me it was lost in the river.”

“Your father lied,” Florence said softly. “He was the one who was looking for it.”

Bianca laughed, a harsh, brittle sound.

“A key? We’re stopping our engagement dinner over a delusion about a key?”

She looked at the guests. “Please, everyone, excuse this.”

But Sebastian grabbed Bianca’s wrist.

Not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to stop her dead.

“Did you go to her apartment?”

Bianca’s eyes darted toward the door.

“My father asked me to check on her.”

“Your father has been dead for five years.”

I stood frozen near the dessert cart.

I knew about the Laurent family. They were the Vitales’ oldest rivals, turned allies through this very engagement.

If Bianca was looking for a key belonging to a woman who died twenty-four years ago, this wasn’t a marriage.

It was a heist.

“Where is the key now, Florence?” Sebastian asked softly.

Florence turned her head.

She looked directly at me.

“I didn’t want to bring it into this house,” Florence said. “So I mailed it to the only person here I knew I could trust.”

My heart stopped.

Yesterday, I had received a small, unmarked padded envelope in the staff mail.

I had slipped it into my apron pocket, assuming it was a replacement part for the vacuum.

I reached into my apron right now.

My fingers brushed against cold, heavy metal.

Sebastian let go of Bianca.

He slowly walked toward me.

“Grace,” he said. “What is in your pocket?”

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