Chapter 2
Mia’s hand was warm and sticky from the crayon.
She walked beside me down the marble hall as if she had just hired me for a job and expected me to perform it properly.
Rafael followed three steps behind.
His face said everything.
Boss, this is a trap.
Maybe.
Probably.
But Mia kept glancing up at me like she was afraid I might vanish if she blinked.
That made the trap irrelevant for the moment.
I brought her into the breakfast room because it was smaller than the ballroom.
Less gold.
Less judgment.
She climbed onto a chair and set the paper heart on the table.
“Do I have to pay you?”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“For being my daddy.”
My throat tightened.
“No.”
She frowned.
“Mommy says grown-ups always want something.”
“Your mother is not wrong.”
“Then what do you want?”
I looked at the red heart.
“The truth.”
Her face changed.
Children are terrible liars when they have been taught fear too early.
“My name is Mia Carter,” she said. “My mommy is Lena.”
I knew the name.
Lena Carter worked in the laundry wing.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Widowed, I had been told.
Never trouble.
That meant trouble had found her anyway.
“Where is your mother now?”
Mia looked toward the door.
“She told me to stay in the kitchen.”
“But you came to the ballroom.”
“I saw your picture in the hallway.”
“My picture?”
She nodded.
“Mommy keeps one too.”
Rafael and I looked at each other.
I had never met Lena Carter before she began working in my house.
At least, I did not remember meeting her.
“Why does she keep my picture?”
Mia twisted her fingers.
“She cries at it sometimes.”
The air shifted.
Rafael spoke softly.
“I’ll find Lena.”
“Do it quietly.”
He left.
Mia watched him go.
“Is he scary?”
“Yes.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
She studied me.
“Not right now.”
I almost smiled.
Then the door opened.
Lena Carter stood there in a black maid’s uniform, pale as paper.
“Mia.”
The child slid off the chair and ran to her.
“I found him, Mommy.”
Lena looked at me.
Not with fear.
With grief.
That was worse.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Verrone. She slipped away.”
I stood.
“Why does your daughter have my photograph?”
Lena closed her eyes.
“Because her father gave it to me.”
My pulse slowed.
“Who was her father?”
Lena looked at Mia.
May you like
Then at me.
“Your brother.”
