Chapter 2
Milena’s hand hung in the air between us.
Her diamonds flashed under the lights.
For one second, she looked less like the queen of that house and more like a cornered woman who had finally heard the lock turn.
“Give me that,” she said.
Her voice was low.
Deadly.
I pulled Luke behind me.
His fingers gripped the back of my dress.
Angelo walked toward us.
Every step sounded heavy on the stone.
“Grace,” he said.
My name in his mouth nearly broke me.
Ten years.
Ten years since I had heard it from him.
Ten years since I had waited in a bus station with one suitcase, swollen feet, and a folded envelope full of cash I had never wanted.
I had believed Angelo had abandoned me.
I had believed he had chosen his family name over me.
Then last week, an old Torrisi driver named Carlo came to my apartment and handed me a letter with shaking hands.
He told me Angelo had never known.
He told me Milena had arranged everything.
He told me Luke was in danger because Angelo’s mother had finally discovered where we lived.
That was why I came.
Not for money.
Not for revenge.
For my son.
Angelo stopped in front of Luke.
He looked down at him.
Luke looked up, trying so hard to be brave.
“How old are you?” Angelo asked.
“Ten,” Luke whispered.
Angelo closed his eyes.
His jaw tightened.
Milena laughed once.
A sharp, ugly sound.
“You cannot possibly believe this woman,” she said. “She shows up with a hungry child and a photograph, and suddenly she belongs here?”
I raised the photo higher.
“Ask her about the envelope,” I said.
Milena’s smile disappeared.
Angelo turned to her.
“What envelope?”
She lifted her chin.
“Angelo, do not embarrass yourself.”
“What envelope, Mother?”
The word Mother sounded like a warning.
Milena looked at the capos.
Then at the servants.
Then at the guests.
She had built her whole life on fear.
May you like
But fear needed silence to survive.
And now everyone was listening.
