Chapter 1 - THE MAN IN THE RAIN
“…may come back.”
The stranger’s warning should have been enough.
Elena should have taken Mila’s hand and run.
Instead, her daughter crouched beside the bleeding man.
“Mama, he’s cold.”
“I know.”
“We can’t leave him.”
The man’s eyes opened again.
“Listen to your mother.”
Even half-conscious, he was trying to protect Mila.
That made Elena’s decision for her.
She called 911.
Before she could give the dispatcher the address, headlights swept across the alley.
The injured man reacted instantly.
His hand caught Elena’s wrist.
Not hard.
Urgently.
“Turn off the phone.”
A black SUV rolled slowly past the alley entrance.
No plates.
Dark windows.
The man tried to stand.
He nearly collapsed.
Elena caught him beneath one arm.
“Who are you?”
“No one you want to know.”
“That’s extremely convincing.”
Mila whispered:
“His pocket is ringing.”
The stranger went still.
A phone vibrated inside his ruined jacket.
Elena pulled it out.
The screen displayed one name.
MATTEO.
The man grabbed the phone.
“Don’t answer.”
The SUV stopped.
Elena’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Then Mila pointed toward the rear of the restaurant.
“There.”
A metal service door had been left slightly open.
Elena made the choice before fear could stop her.
Together, they dragged the stranger inside.
The restaurant had closed twenty minutes earlier.
The kitchen was dark.
Elena hid him behind stacks of flour near a back storage room while Mila crouched beside him holding his hand.
Footsteps entered the alley outside.
Two men.
Elena could hear them talking.
“He couldn’t have gone far.”
“Check the restaurant.”
Her stomach dropped.
The stranger reached beneath his torn jacket.
Elena immediately caught his hand.
“No weapons around my daughter.”
His dark eyes locked onto hers.
For a second, Elena expected anger.
Instead, he slowly removed his hand.
The back door rattled.
Locked.
One man cursed.
Then a siren sounded in the distance.
The strangers disappeared.
Elena released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
The wounded man looked at her strangely.
“You stopped me.”
“You were reaching for something.”
“You don’t even know who I am.”
“No.”
Mila smiled.
“I know.”
Both adults turned.
The five-year-old pointed at an embroidered monogram inside his coat.
A.C.
Then she said proudly:
“You’re Alessandro.”
The man’s face changed.
Elena frowned.
“How do you know that?”
Mila pulled something from the wet pavement grime stuck to his sleeve.
A broken gold medallion.
On one side was a crest.
On the other:
ALESSANDRO CONTI.
Elena knew that name.
Everyone in Boston did.
Don Alessandro Conti.
Shipping magnate.
Restaurant owner.
Philanthropist.
And, according to every whispered story in East Boston, the most powerful crime boss north of New York.
Elena stepped backward.
“Oh, God.”
Alessandro almost smiled.
“That would have been the appropriate reaction five minutes ago.”
Before Elena could speak, his phone vibrated again.
This time a message appeared on the screen.
Alessandro read it.
Whatever little color remained in his face disappeared.
Elena saw only the final line:
WE HAVE THE GIRL.
Alessandro looked at Mila.
May you like
Then at Elena.
“They think your daughter belongs to me.”
