Chapter 1
Dominic Moretti raised one hand.
That was all.
He did not strike Leo.
He did not touch him.
His fingers had barely lifted above shoulder height when three-year-old Leo dropped into a crouch, threw both arms over his head, and pressed himself behind Emma Cole’s legs.
Vincent saw everything.
The reception room had been full of voices seconds earlier.
Capos speaking beneath crystal chandeliers.
Family members moving between tables.
Glasses touching.
Low laughter.
Then Dominic had seized Emma by the back of her housekeeper uniform and slammed her against the edge of a reception table.
“Stay out of family business.”
Emma caught herself.
Leo ran toward her.
Dominic turned on the boy.
He lifted one hand.
Leo covered his head.
Too fast.
Too practiced.
Dominic laughed angrily.
“See? The maid taught him to fear me.”
Vincent was already moving.
He crossed the short distance between them and tore Dominic away from Emma.
Leo looked up.
His lower lip trembled.
“Daddy…”
One word.
Broken by sobs.
Vincent pulled his son beside him.
Emma slowly rose.
Her hands were shaking.
She looked directly at Vincent.
“He reacted before Dominic even touched him.”
Vincent’s expression became completely still.
Dominic saw it.
Started backing away.
“Vincent, don’t turn this into—”
Dominic lunged toward Emma.
Maybe to silence her.
Maybe from panic.
It did not matter.
Vincent caught his arm, twisted him aside, and hurled him backward into an empty reception chair.
The chair skidded across marble.
Every Moretti bodyguard in the room closed in.
Nobody drew a weapon.
Nobody needed to.
Dominic looked around and realized he had become the only man in the room without protection.
Vincent kept Leo behind him.
Emma moved beside the child.
Vincent looked at his cousin.
“How many times have you raised that hand at him?”
Dominic swallowed.
“Never.”
Emma closed her eyes.
Vincent heard it.
Not words.
Despair.
He looked at her.
“Emma.”
She did not speak.
“Look at me.”
She did.
There were tears in her eyes.
“Leo does it in his sleep.”
The room went quiet.
Dominic stood.
“That’s insane.”
Emma continued.
“He wakes up covering his head.”
“Because she put the idea there.”
Vincent turned toward Dominic.
“You’re still talking.”
Dominic stopped.
Vincent crouched beside Leo.
His son had both hands twisted into the sides of Vincent’s coat.
“Leo.”
The boy looked at him.
Vincent softened his voice.
“Did someone scare you?”
Leo’s eyes immediately moved toward Dominic.
Dominic cursed under his breath.
Vincent heard.
He stood again.
“Take Dominic downstairs.”
Two bodyguards moved.
Dominic fought the first grip.
“I’m a capo.”
Vincent stared at him.
“Not tonight.”
That stopped him.
Dominic allowed himself to be taken out.
The guests remained frozen.
Vincent looked around the room.
“Reception is over.”
No one argued.
Within ten minutes, cars began leaving the estate.
Vincent took Leo upstairs.
Emma followed.
The child refused to let go of his father’s hand.
That was unusual.
Leo loved Vincent.
But he had never been clingy.
Tonight he held on as though releasing one finger might make the room change again.
In Leo’s bedroom, Emma helped remove the boy’s jacket.
Vincent saw a faint yellow bruise near his upper arm.
His stomach turned cold.
“How?”
Emma stopped.
Leo pulled the sleeve down.
Vincent looked at her.
“How did he get that?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“He said he fell.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“You believed him?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Emma’s face broke.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Twice.”
Vincent stared.
“You never spoke to me.”
“I asked Peter to bring me to you.”
Peter Shaw.
Vincent’s security chief.
“You spoke to Peter.”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were dealing with family matters and Leo had probably hurt himself playing.”
Vincent looked toward the door.
Another name.
Another person between him and the truth.
Leo tugged at his hand.
“Daddy.”
“Yes.”
The boy whispered:
“Uncle Dominic said no telling.”
Vincent crouched.
Emma inhaled sharply.
Leo’s eyes filled again.
“He said Mommy can hear when I cry.”
Vincent stopped breathing.
Leo’s mother, Sofia Moretti, had been dead for fourteen months.
Vincent forced his voice to stay soft.
“What did Uncle Dominic say about Mommy?”
Leo looked frightened.
“That if I’m bad… she goes farther away.”
Emma covered her mouth.
Vincent stood.
He had thought fury was the strongest thing a man could feel.
It was not.
There was something beyond fury.
A silence so deep it felt like the body preparing itself to become a weapon.
He turned toward Emma.
“Tell me everything.”
She looked at Leo.
Then at Vincent.
“There’s something under his bed.”
Vincent froze.
“What?”
“I found it this morning.”
Emma knelt.
Reached beneath the wooden frame.
Pulled out a small black velvet pouch.
Vincent took it.
Inside was a metal family pin.
Black enamel.
Silver M.
A narrow red line running through the crest.
Vincent recognized it.
His father had ordered every pin like this destroyed nineteen years ago.
They had belonged to only one branch of the Moretti family.
The branch led by Matteo Moretti.
Vincent’s uncle.
A man who had supposedly died in a warehouse fire.
A man who once told Vincent:
“If you ever bring a son into this world, I’ll teach him what your father taught mine.”
Vincent stared at the pin.
Then toward the hallway where Dominic had been taken.
May you like
His voice became almost inaudible.
“Who put this beneath my son’s bed?”
