Chapter 1 - THE NAME THAT MADE THE MAFIA BOSS GO PALE
"Elijah."
The name escaped my lips so quietly that I barely heard myself say it.
But Kieran Blackwood heard every syllable.
His expression changed instantly.
"Elijah who?"
I swallowed.
"Elijah Torres."
The color drained from his face.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he stepped backward and gripped the kitchen counter.
"How old is he?"
My stomach tightened.
"Six."
Kieran closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something terrifying had replaced the jealousy.
Recognition.
"Where is he?"
I folded my arms, trying to stop my hands from trembling.
"At St. Catherine's Children's Hospital."
He looked toward the invoice in my pocket.
"Eighteen thousand dollars?"
"That's what remains unpaid."
His jaw tightened.
"What's wrong with him?"
I looked down.
"His heart."
The words felt like broken glass.
Elijah had been born with a congenital heart condition.
He'd already undergone two major procedures.
Now his doctors were evaluating him for another intervention, and the bills had become impossible to manage.
I had spent eighteen months working inside Kieran's mansion because the salary included housing and allowed me to send nearly everything I earned toward Elijah's care.
I hadn't told Kieran.
I hadn't told the household staff.
And I certainly hadn't explained why every Sunday I traveled to Manhattan carrying children's books and homemade soup.
Kieran's voice softened.
"He's your son?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
For the first time since I'd met him, the man who frightened powerful executives seemed unable to speak.
He slowly lowered himself onto a kitchen stool.
"You have a child."
"Yes."
"And you've been working here for eighteen months."
"Yes."
"Without telling me."
I lifted my chin.
"My employment contract didn't require me to disclose my entire family history."
He looked up.
"You're right."
That surprised me.
Then he asked, "Does his father help?"
Something inside me went cold.
"No."
"Where is he?"
I looked away.
"Dead."
Kieran's expression hardened.
"What was his name?"
I hesitated.
There were things I hadn't told anyone.
Things connected to a night I still dreamed about.
But Kieran was staring at me with a strange desperation, as though the answer mattered more than it should.
Finally, I whispered, "Gabriel Torres."
Kieran stood so abruptly that the stool struck the floor.
I flinched.
He immediately stepped back.
Then he stared at me.
"Gabriel Torres?"
I nodded.
His voice became almost unrecognizable.
"Your husband was Gabriel Torres?"
"He was never my husband."
Kieran's jaw tightened.
"He was my brother's best friend."
I stopped breathing.
"What?"
"Gabriel worked for the Blackwood family seven years ago."
My heart began pounding.
I had never known that.
Gabriel had told me he worked in shipping logistics.
He'd disappeared while I was pregnant.
Weeks later, someone told me he'd died in an accident.
I'd never seen a body.
Never received an official explanation.
Kieran stared at me.
Then whispered the words that made my knees weaken.
"Saraphina, Gabriel Torres didn't die in an accident."
May you like
A terrible silence settled between us.
Then he added, "And if Elijah is his son, someone has been lying to both of us for six years."
