Chapter 1
“It’s true that someone will disappear tonight…”
I stopped in front of Ramona and Marcus.
Marcus was still half-buried beneath the collapsed polo-mallet rack. Ramona sat among fallen banners and foam cushions, one hand pressed against her cheek.
“But it won’t be my wife.”
Nobody moved.
Behind me, Alina held Lucy tightly against her chest. Sand clung to the hem of her dress, but she barely seemed to notice.
Lucy did.
Her small hand remained locked around Alina’s necklace as though someone might still try to take her mother away.
I looked at Ramona.
“What did you tell my daughter?”
Ramona’s expression hardened.
“She misunderstood.”
Lucy shook her head immediately.
“No.”
That one small word silenced the terrace.
I turned.
“What did she say, sweetheart?”
Lucy buried her face against Alina.
“Aunt Ramona said Mommy goes away after dark.”
My jaw tightened.
“Where?”
Lucy pointed toward the stable side of the polo grounds.
“The big gate.”
Ramona stood.
“Lorenzo, she is three.”
“So?”
“She hears fragments.”
Marcus pushed himself upright.
“She was fixing a family problem.”
I looked at him.
“You already said that.”
He wiped blood from his lip.
“And I meant it.”
My bodyguards quietly moved closer.
I did not need to signal them.
The exits were already closed.
I turned toward Alina.
“What happened before I came over?”
She hesitated.
That bothered me.
Not because she was hiding something.
Because she was afraid of what saying it would start.
“Alina.”
Her eyes met mine.
“Ramona has been threatening me for three weeks.”
My face went still.
“For what?”
She slowly reached into the small purse hanging from her wrist.
Ramona changed instantly.
“Don’t.”
Alina stopped.
I looked at my cousin.
Interesting.
“Show me.”
Alina opened her hand.
A small brass disk rested in her palm.
Old.
Darkened with age.
One side carried a worn horse-head insignia.
The other bore the Carbone crest.
I recognized it.
Barely.
My father used to keep one identical token locked inside his desk.
Marcus stared at it.
Ramona looked terrified.
I took it carefully.
“Where did you get this?”
Alina swallowed.
“In the north tack room.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Ramona’s composure finally cracked.
“That belongs to us.”
Alina looked at her.
“No.”
Then she looked at me.
“It belonged to my father.”
The terrace seemed to tilt.
I had known Alina’s father died when she was young.
I had never known his name mattered to the Carbones.
“What was his name?”
Her voice became quiet.
“Daniel Hart.”
Every older capo on the terrace reacted.
May you like
Not one spoke.
And that told me Daniel Hart had never been the nobody my family taught me he was.
