Chapter 1 - THE DOG WHO REMEMBERED
My manager leaned closer, his voice barely audible.
“Because, Olivia… Orion put a man in the hospital the last time a stranger tried to touch him.”
I stared at him.
Then through the restaurant windows at the black SUV waiting outside.
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I were.”
One of the men in dark suits entered.
“Miss Marshall?”
Every employee suddenly became fascinated by menus, silverware, or the floor.
I folded my arms.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Moretti would like to speak with you.”
“About his dog?”
The man hesitated.
“Among other things.”
That was not reassuring.
“I’m working.”
“Your shift has been covered.”
I looked at my manager.
He nodded much too quickly.
Apparently terrifying billionaires could rearrange restaurant schedules before breakfast.
“I’m not getting into an SUV without knowing where I’m going.”
The bodyguard raised an eyebrow.
Then touched his earpiece.
A moment later he offered me his phone.
Dante Moretti’s voice came through.
“Miss Marshall.”
“You could have called me yourself.”
Silence.
Then, surprisingly:
“Fair.”
His voice was even deeper over the phone.
“I’m at my townhouse. Orion has refused food and water since you left. My veterinarian says nothing is physically wrong.”
“And you think I can fix that?”
“I think Orion believes you can.”
Ridiculous.
Except I remembered his heartbreaking whine.
“What happens if I say no?”
Another pause.
“Then my driver leaves.”
No threat.
No command.
A choice.
That surprised me enough to make me curious.
Twenty-five minutes later, I entered a limestone townhouse on the Upper East Side that looked more secure than most banks.
The second the front doors opened, claws thundered over marble.
“Orion—”
The black hound appeared.
Every guard tensed.
I barely had time to lower my handbag before ninety pounds of fur collided gently with my legs.
“Oh, there you are.”
Orion buried his head against my stomach.
His tail struck a table.
One guard actually backed away.
Dante stood near the staircase wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
He watched in absolute disbelief.
“He hasn’t greeted anyone like that in four years.”
I scratched Orion behind the ears.
“Maybe everyone around here needs to relax.”
One corner of Dante’s mouth moved.
Then Orion suddenly stopped.
His nose went to my handbag.
He pushed harder.
“What?”
I opened it.
Wallet.
Lip balm.
Keys.
And the worn brown leather keychain that had belonged to my father.
Orion froze.
Then he made a sound I had never heard from a dog before.
Almost a sob.
He lowered himself to the floor and placed one enormous paw over the keychain.
Dante went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“My father.”
“What was his name?”
“Michael Marshall.”
The room changed.
One of the guards whispered, “Jesus.”
My pulse jumped.
“What?”
Dante walked closer.
For the first time, the feared Mafia boss looked shaken.
“Michael Marshall worked for my family.”
I laughed nervously.
“My father repaired elevators.”
“He did.”
“So what are you talking about?”
Dante looked at Orion.
“Your father also trained him.”
My throat tightened.
“That’s impossible.”
Dante’s gray eyes returned to mine.
“No, Olivia.”
May you like
Then he said the words that made the floor seem to disappear beneath me.
“Your father didn’t die in an accident.”
