Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN ORION REMEMBERED
The black SUV did not take me to Dante Moretti.
It took me to his dog.
That was the first thing I noticed when the gates opened.
The second was that Orion was waiting on the front steps of a mansion overlooking the Hudson, staring at the driveway as though he had been counting every second until I arrived.
The moment I stepped from the SUV, the enormous hound ran.
One of Dante’s guards cursed.
“Orion!”
I froze.
The dog stopped inches from me.
Then he pressed his head against my stomach and made the same heartbreaking sound I had heard at the restaurant.
A whine.
Almost a cry.
I slowly touched his head.
“Hey, handsome.”
His entire body relaxed.
“That,” a man said behind me, “is the problem.”
I turned.
Dante Moretti stood beneath the stone entrance in a black sweater and dark trousers.
Without the charcoal coat and restaurant lighting, he somehow looked even more dangerous.
“What problem?”
“Orion tried to bite the veterinarian this morning.”
I looked down at the dog currently leaning half his weight against my legs.
“He seems fine.”
“He isn’t.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like veterinarians.”
“He has known that veterinarian for four years.”
I frowned.
Dante approached.
Orion looked at him, then immediately returned his attention to me.
Something about that bothered Dante.
Not jealousy exactly.
Confusion.
“Come inside.”
“That sounded like an order.”
“It was an invitation.”
“You may want to work on your invitations.”
His mouth almost moved.
Again.
Inside, two men waited beside a table covered with files.
One was introduced as Marco Bellini, Dante’s security chief.
The other, Dr. Elias Grant, was apparently a geneticist.
That was not what I expected.
I looked at Dante.
“You investigated me overnight?”
“Yes.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure.”
He opened the first folder.
“Olivia Marshall. Twenty-six. Born in Connecticut. Mother, Laura Marshall, deceased. Father unknown. No criminal record. No connection to my family.”
“Congratulations. You’ve discovered I’m boring.”
“No.”
His eyes held mine.
“We discovered you shouldn’t exist.”
I stopped smiling.
Dr. Grant slid a photograph across the table.
A woman stood beside a younger Dante.
She had dark hair.
Brown eyes.
And my face.
Not similar.
Not vaguely familiar.
My face.
I stared.
“Who is she?”
Dante answered quietly.
“Her name was Elena Rossi.”
“Was?”
“She died twenty-one years ago.”
My skin prickled.
“What does she have to do with me?”
Instead of answering, Dante placed another photograph beside it.
Elena kneeling beside a much younger Orion.
No.
Not Orion.
A dog identical to him.
Same amber eyes.
Same white mark beneath the throat.
“The dog was named Nero,” Dante said.
“Orion’s father?”
“Grandfather.”
I looked at him.
“Why would Orion recognize me because I resemble some woman who died before I knew you?”
Dante’s expression darkened.
“Because Elena Rossi wasn’t just someone I knew.”
He pushed the final paper toward me.
An old missing-person report.
At the bottom was a handwritten note:
INFANT FEMALE, APPROXIMATELY FIVE MONTHS OLD, NEVER RECOVERED.
I stopped breathing.
Dante spoke very carefully.
“Elena disappeared with her baby.”
My fingers trembled.
“What was the baby’s name?”
May you like
Dante looked directly at me.
“Olivia.”
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