Chapter 1 - The Name on Her Wrist
The wineglass hit Don Riccardo Marino before Sofia heard it break.
Red wine exploded across his white collar.
A dark stain spread over the most feared man in the restaurant.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Sofia stared at the broken stem in her shaking hand.
“Oh my God.”
The words barely came out.
“I’m so sorry.”
Around the private dining room, twelve men in expensive suits slowly turned toward her.
One of them reached inside his jacket.
The restaurant manager, Antonio Bellini, went pale.
“Sofia.”
His voice cracked.
“What have you done?”
Sofia dropped the napkin she had been carrying and reached toward Riccardo.
“Sir, I can clean—”
Riccardo grabbed her wrist.
Hard.
Sofia gasped.
“Let go of me.”
Every bodyguard in the room froze.
Riccardo Marino was sixty-one, silver-haired, broad-shouldered, and known throughout Chicago as a man who never repeated an order.
But now he wasn’t looking at the wine.
He was staring at Sofia’s wrist.
At the small gold bracelet that had slipped out from beneath the cuff of her uniform.
A thin band.
An oval plaque.
One word engraved into it.
CHIARA.
Riccardo’s grip loosened.
His face changed.
For the first time since Sofia had entered the private dining room, the dangerous man looked afraid.
“Where did you get this?”
Sofia pulled her wrist closer to her chest.
“My bracelet?”
“Where?”
His voice thundered across the room.
One of the guests rose.
“Riccardo, what is this?”
Riccardo ignored him.
Sofia swallowed.
“My mother gave it to me.”
“When?”
“When I was little.”
Riccardo took a step toward her.
“Your mother’s name.”
Sofia frowned.
“Elena.”
“Elena what?”
“Rossi.”
The color disappeared from Riccardo’s face.
Across the room, Antonio quietly stepped backward.
Sofia noticed.
So did Riccardo.
He pointed at the manager.
“Don’t move.”
Antonio stopped.
Riccardo looked back at Sofia.
His eyes dropped once more to the bracelet.
Then his thumb moved slowly over the engraved letters.
“Chiara.”
The word came out almost like a prayer.
Sofia’s anger began replacing her fear.
“You’re hurting me.”
Riccardo released her immediately.
“I had a daughter.”
Nobody spoke.
“She was three years old when St. Vincent Hospital burned.”
Sofia stared at him.
Riccardo’s jaw tightened.
“They found my wife.”
He paused.
“But they never found my daughter.”
Sofia’s heartbeat jumped.
Riccardo touched the bracelet again.
“This was made for her.”
Sofia shook her head.
“No.”
“I ordered it myself.”
“No.”
“There were only two like it.”
Sofia pulled away.
“My mother bought this at a flea market.”
Riccardo’s eyes stayed locked on hers.
“She lied.”
Sofia stepped back.
“You don’t know my mother.”
“I know that bracelet.”
Antonio suddenly turned toward the door.
Riccardo’s security chief, Marco DeLuca, blocked him.
“Going somewhere?”
Antonio forced a smile.
“Kitchen emergency.”
Riccardo stared at him.
“You recognized the name.”
Antonio’s smile vanished.
“I didn’t.”
Riccardo walked toward him.
“You stepped away the second I said Chiara.”
Antonio said nothing.
Sofia looked between the two men.
“What is happening?”
Riccardo stopped inches from Antonio.
“Tell her.”
Antonio’s throat moved.
“Tell me what?” Sofia demanded.
Antonio looked at Sofia.
Then at her bracelet.
And finally back at Riccardo.
“You should have left this alone.”
Riccardo’s face hardened.
Antonio gave a bitter laugh.
“Twenty-three years, Riccardo.”
Sofia went cold.
Antonio whispered the next words.
“And you still don’t know who started that hospital fire.”
Riccardo grabbed him by the jacket.
“Who?”
May you like
Antonio looked directly at Sofia.
“The person who raised your daughter.”
