Chapter 1 - The Boy With Marello's Eyes

Three days before Marello Vitali was supposed to marry Bianca Valenti, my seven-year-old son rolled a broken red toy car directly into his father's path.

Leo looked up at the man who had been feared by half the city and smiled.

"Can you fix it?"

Marello glanced down at the car, then at the boy.

"Do I look like a mechanic?"

Leo studied him seriously.

"No. You look like you make mechanics nervous."

I was halfway down the corridor of the children's therapy center when I heard Marello laugh.

The sound stopped me colder than a gunshot.

I knew that laugh.

Seven years had not changed it.

I rounded the corner and saw Leo standing beside him, small fingers resting trustingly in Marello's hand.

My breath vanished.

Marello turned.

The amusement left his face.

"Elena."

I had imagined this moment in nightmares for years. In every version, I had a perfect explanation ready.

In reality, I could barely speak.

"Marello."

His eyes moved from me to Leo and back again.

"You work here?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Leo has therapy on Saturdays."

He looked at Leo.

"Your son?"

My throat tightened.

"Yes."

Marello's jaw hardened.

"So you had another child."

I heard the accusation before he said anything else.

He stepped closer.

"You destroyed ours, disappeared, and built a new family."

"No."

"Don't lie to me."

"I never destroyed our child."

For the first time, he looked uncertain.

Leo tugged lightly at Marello's sleeve.

"Mama?"

I closed my eyes for one second.

When I opened them, Marello was staring at the boy's face.

At the dark lashes.

The curve of the mouth.

The tiny crescent-shaped birthmark beneath his left ear.

Marello had the same mark.

His voice changed.

"How old is he?"

"Seven."

"Exactly seven?"

"Seven years and two months."

Marello looked at me.

His face went still in the way it always did when he was trying not to show emotion.

"No."

I swallowed.

"Marello—"

"No."

He stepped back, as if distance could make the math disappear.

Leo glanced between us.

"Mama, why is he angry?"

Marello's eyes never left mine.

"Because your mother is about to tell me something she should have told me seven years ago."

I knelt beside Leo.

"Sweetheart, this is complicated."

"You said complicated means adults made a mess."

Despite everything, Marello almost smiled again.

"Your mother taught you that?"

"She says it a lot."

I touched Leo's hair.

"Marello is your father."

The corridor became silent.

Leo blinked.

Then he looked at Marello.

"Papa?"

Marello's face broke.

Not completely.

Marello Vitali did not break completely in front of anyone.

But I saw it.

His eyes shone.

His mouth tightened.

His fingers trembled once at his side.

He crouched.

"Say that again."

Leo hesitated.

"Papa?"

Marello closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the feared mafia boss was gone for one second.

There was only the twenty-eight-year-old man I had loved before fear destroyed us.

He reached out slowly.

Leo stepped into his arms.

Marello held him as if he were afraid the boy might disappear.

I turned away because I could not watch without falling apart.

"Why?" Marello asked.

I looked back.

He was still holding Leo.

"Why did you let me believe he was dead?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice."

"They took me."

His eyes sharpened.

"Who?"

"Seven years ago. The night I disappeared."

"Who took you?"

"I never knew all their names."

"Tell me what you do know."

Leo shifted in his arms.

I lowered my voice.

"Not here."

Marello looked around the hallway.

Then his phone vibrated.

He glanced at the screen.

His expression changed instantly.

"What is it?" I asked.

He did not answer.

He opened a message.

A photograph appeared.

Bianca.

His bride-to-be.

She was seated at a private table across from Victor Salvi, the man who had ordered my disappearance seven years earlier.

I knew Victor because I had never forgotten his face.

Beneath the image was a message.

THE WEDDING IS THE FINAL STEP. KILL MARELLO. TAKE THE VITALI EMPIRE.

Marello read it twice.

Then he looked at me.

"That's him?"

My mouth went dry.

"Victor Salvi."

"The man who took you?"

"The man who gave the order."

Leo looked between us.

"Is that a bad man?"

Marello tucked the phone away.

"Yes."

Leo frowned.

"Then why is the lady in the picture smiling at him?"

Marello's jaw tightened.

"That's a very good question."

He stood with Leo still in his arms.

"We're leaving."

I shook my head.

"No."

"Elena."

"I won't bring Leo into your world."

"He's already in it."

"He doesn't have to be."

"Someone sent me a photograph showing my fiancée meeting the man who kidnapped you. That means whoever sent it knows about you, Leo, or both."

I hated that he was right.

"Where?"

"My house."

"Absolutely not."

"My estate has thirty-two armed guards."

"And apparently your enemies can get close enough to your wedding to arrange your murder."

Marello stared at me.

"You haven't changed."

"Neither have you."

"I have."

"You're still giving orders."

"And you're still ignoring sensible ones."

Leo raised a finger.

"I have an idea."

We both looked at him.

"What?" I asked.

"We go somewhere with pizza."

Marello blinked.

Leo added, "Bad people probably don't like pizza."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

Marello looked at Leo.

"Your security theory needs work."

"Can I still have pizza?"

"Yes."

"Marello."

He looked at me.

"He has my eyes, Elena. Let me buy my son pizza before you tell me why I missed seven years of his life."

The words hurt because there was no defense against them.

I nodded.

Marello called someone named Nico and gave one sentence.

"Lock down Casa Vitali. No one enters without my permission."

A pause.

"That includes Bianca."

He ended the call.

I stared at him.

"You're not confronting her?"

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because if she thinks I know, she'll run."

"And if she doesn't?"

"She'll walk exactly where I need her to walk."

There it was.

The cold strategist.

The man I had once loved and later feared for all the right reasons.

Leo slipped his hand into mine.

Marello took his other hand.

For one strange moment, the three of us stood connected in the center of a hospital corridor like the family we had been denied.

Then a woman in a nurse's uniform passed us.

She looked at Leo.

Only for half a second.

But I saw recognition in her eyes.

My stomach dropped.

"Wait."

The woman kept walking.

"Marello."

He followed my gaze.

"Do you know her?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"She knows Leo."

The nurse reached the elevator.

The doors opened.

I ran.

"Stop!"

She looked back.

Fear flashed across her face.

Then she stepped inside.

Marello moved faster than I expected.

He caught the elevator door with one hand.

The woman reached into her pocket.

Marello seized her wrist.

A small syringe fell onto the floor.

Leo gasped.

I pulled him behind me.

Marello's men appeared from nowhere.

They forced the woman against the wall.

She stared at me.

"You should have stayed hidden."

I felt the past opening beneath my feet.

"Who sent you?"

She smiled.

"Ask the bride."

Marello's voice became quiet.

"Ask her what?"

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The woman looked directly at Leo.

"Ask Bianca why the child was never supposed to reach his seventh birthday."