Chapter 1 - THE MAFIA BOSS WHO KNEW MY BROTHER'S NAME
"I know about Toby, Elena."
Those five words stopped me colder than the December wind sweeping across Manhattan.
I pulled my hand away from Dante Vancel.
"How do you know my brother?"
The black limousine waited beside us, its headlights illuminating the wet pavement. Behind me, the Velvet Lounge pulsed with music again, as though nothing extraordinary had happened.
Dante studied my face.
"Your brother is ten years old. He has a congenital heart condition, and he's scheduled for surgery next Thursday."
My stomach dropped.
"Have you been following me?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
He looked toward his driver.
"Give us a moment, Marcus."
The driver stepped away.
Dante turned back to me.
"Three weeks ago, someone contacted my foundation requesting emergency financial assistance for a child named Tobias Vance."
I blinked.
"Toby's full name is Tobias."
"I know."
"But I never contacted your foundation."
"I didn't say you did."
My heart began beating harder.
"Who did?"
Dante's expression changed.
"That's what I wanted to ask you."
I stared at him.
For six months, I'd worked double shifts, skipped meals, and sold nearly everything valuable I owned.
I'd called charities.
I'd applied for assistance.
I'd begged hospital billing departments for more time.
But I'd never heard of the Vancel Foundation.
"I don't understand."
Dante reached into his jacket and removed a folded document.
It was a copy of a financial assistance request.
At the top was Toby's name.
His date of birth.
His hospital.
His diagnosis.
And beneath the emergency contact section was my signature.
Except I hadn't signed it.
I stared at the page.
"That's not mine."
"I thought you might say that."
"Who submitted this?"
"Someone using your identity."
A sick feeling spread through my chest.
"Why?"
"Because the application requested two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
My knees weakened.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand?"
Dante nodded.
"The funds were approved. But they were never sent to your brother's hospital."
I looked up sharply.
"Where did they go?"
He hesitated.
"To a private account controlled by someone connected to your employer."
I felt the world tilt.
"Greg?"
Dante's silence answered before his words did.
"Your manager's legal name is Gregory Hale."
I swallowed.
"So?"
"So Gregory Hale used to work for my father."
I stared at him.
Dante continued.
"And six years ago, he disappeared after being accused of stealing money from a medical charity."
My hands began trembling.
"Are you saying Greg stole money meant for Toby?"
"That's what the records suggest."
I took a step backward.
All those nights I'd begged Greg for extra shifts.
All the times he'd threatened to fire me.
All the moments he'd watched me struggle while knowing my brother needed help.
Dante held out the envelope from the nightclub.
"The ten thousand dollars is yours. It isn't payment for a dance."
I stared at it.
"Then why give it to me?"
"Because your manager owes you more than an apology."
I shook my head.
"I don't want charity."
Dante's gray eyes softened.
"Neither did the woman who saved my mother's life."
I froze.
"What woman?"
He looked directly at me.
"Her name was Catherine Vance."
My breath caught.
That was my mother's name.
Dante stepped closer.
"Elena, your mother didn't just work for my family."
May you like
He paused.
"She died protecting something my father desperately wanted to hide."
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