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Lorenzo’s hand tightened around the grip of his weapon, his shadow looming over the makeshift bed. "You touch him, girl, and you lose the hand." / Chapter 6 / 8

Chapter 6 - BLOOD ON THE ICE

The dark waters of Lake Michigan thrashed violently as Damian and Julian fought in the shallows beneath the dock. Julian pulled a hidden boot knife, slashing wildly, catching Damian across the chest.

Damian grunted, ignoring the pain, and grabbed Julian by the throat, forcing his head beneath the freezing waves.

"I gave you everything, Uncle!" Damian roared, pulling Julian up just long enough for him to gasp for air before shoving him under again. "I built this empire to protect this family!"

"Falcone... Falcone has... your mother’s ledger..." Julian choked out, thrashing helplessly. "He knows... he knows the truth about... St. Jude’s..."

Damian’s eyes widened. "What did you say?"

Julian coughed up blood and lake water, a sick, dying grin spreading across his face. "You think... you think that girl... was a coincidence? You think... she just happened... to be in that alley?"

Damian pulled Julian out of the water by his lapels, slamming him against the wooden pilings of the dock. "Explain! Speak, or I drag this out for days!"

"Ask Falcone..." Julian wheezed, his lungs failing. "Ask him... why your father... paid St. Jude’s Foster Home... twenty thousand dollars a month... for twenty years..."

With a final, terrible shudder, Julian went limp in Damian’s grip.

Damian stood frozen in the freezing rain, the icy water dragging at his clothes, his heart pounding harder than it had during the entire firefight. He turned slowly to look up at the balcony.

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The ink on the medical schedule wasn't standard printer black. It was darker, heavier, pressed down with the kind of deliberate malice that only a fountain pen could deliver. I stared at the signature at the bottom of the page, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

The ink on the medical schedule wasn't standard printer black. It was da...

The kitchen was so quiet you could hear the distant murmur of the jazz trio outside, playing as if the world hadn't just tilted on its axis. Grant stared at the single sheet of thick parchment resting against the cold Italian marble. His breath caught, a shallow, ragged hitch that gave away his panic before his voice ever could.

The kitchen was so quiet you could hear the distant murmur of the jazz t...

The silence that settled over the Ashford Hills grand terrace after my wedding ring hit the champagne glass wasn’t the polite hush of a high-society dinner. It was the breathless vacuum that precedes an explosion. Around us, smartphones remained elevated, lenses locked on Grant’s face as the pale gold liquid rippled around the platinum band.

The silence that settled over the Ashford Hills grand terrace after my w...

Nora was standing there, holding the rifle, her dark hair blowing wild in the wind, watching him with a mixture of fear and profound concern.

A terrible, suffocating truth began to take shape in Damian’s mind. The orphan girl who had saved his life... was not a stranger at all.

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