Chapter 1 - THE STRANGERS WATCHING BOOTH SEVEN
“Danger from who?”
My question hung in the diner like smoke.
Peter Castiglione looked toward the rain-streaked windows.
“From the people who spent nineteen years making sure my parents never found me.”
I stared at him.
Sam was sitting beside Rose, clutching her hand.
Nineteen years.
Nineteen years since their son had apparently vanished from their lives.
And now a man powerful enough to make an entire Chicago diner fall silent was standing in front of them, looking frightened.
“You expect me to believe somebody kept your parents away from you for nineteen years?” I asked.
Peter looked at Sam.
“My father was accused of betraying our family. I was told he and my mother died in a fire.”
Rose began crying.
Peter crossed the room.
He knelt beside her again.
“Mama, where have you been?”
She touched his hair.
“Looking for you, Domenico.”
Sam lowered his head.
“They told us our boy was dead.”
Peter's jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Sam looked toward the window.
His hands began shaking.
“Your uncle.”
Peter stopped breathing.
“Silvio?”
Before Sam could answer, the black sedan outside suddenly turned on its headlights.
Peter's security chief, Vincent, moved toward the door.
I grabbed Leo's jacket.
Something felt terribly wrong.
Peter looked at me.
“What's your name?”
“Mara Ellis.”
“And the boy?”
“Leo.”
His expression softened slightly.
Then Leo stirred beneath my jacket.
“Mommy?”
I hurried to him.
“I'm here, baby.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“Did the bad men come back?”
My heart stopped.
Peter turned slowly.
“What bad men?”
I crouched beside Leo.
“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”
He pointed toward the street.
“The ones who were outside our apartment yesterday.”
A cold sensation traveled down my spine.
Yesterday, a black car had followed us home.
I'd told myself it was a coincidence.
Then Leo whispered something that made Peter's entire expression change.
“The man by the car said Daddy should've kept his mouth shut.”
My husband had been dead for eighteen months.
Daniel Ellis.
A paramedic.
A gentle man who made terrible pancakes and never forgot our anniversary.
He'd died in what police called a highway accident.
I pulled Leo against my chest.
“Peter, what does my husband have to do with your parents?”
Peter stared at me.
“Your husband's name was Daniel Ellis?”
“Yes.”
His face drained of color.
Vincent suddenly approached with a phone in his hand.
“Boss, we identified the sedan.”
Peter didn't look away from me.
“Who owns it?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Castiglione Family Holdings.”
I swallowed.
Peter's jaw hardened.
Then Vincent added one final detail.
“The same vehicle was photographed outside Daniel Ellis's apartment the night before he died.”
I could barely breathe.
Because the frightening truth was beginning to form.
My husband hadn't died in an accident.
May you like
Someone had been watching him.
And now they were watching our son.
