Chapter 1 - THE HOSPITAL FILE ON HIS TABLE
The document on Alessandro Moretti's table had my brother's name across the top.
MARCO ROSSI.
Lakeview Medical Center.
Patient account summary.
My fingers went cold.
“Where did you get that?”
Alessandro didn't touch the paper.
“You're behind sixty-four hundred dollars.”
“I can read.”
“And his next treatment requires a deposit by Friday.”
My pulse started pounding.
“Why do you know that?”
He leaned back in his chair.
“Because after you grabbed my wrist in front of an entire restaurant, I became curious.”
“That doesn't give you the right to investigate my family.”
“No.”
His answer came so easily that it caught me off guard.
“Then why did you?”
“Because people who aren't afraid of me are either very brave or very desperate.”
His gaze dropped to the hospital bill.
“You looked desperate.”
Anger burned through my fear.
“You had me followed?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“I asked questions.”
“That sounds like following me with extra steps.”
For the first time, his mouth almost curved.
Then his expression became serious.
“Your brother's illness is expensive.”
“That's none of your business.”
“I can make it my business.”
I laughed once.
It wasn't funny.
“Let me guess. You want something.”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
Of course he did.
Men like Alessandro Moretti did not give away thousands of dollars because they suddenly developed charitable hearts.
“What?”
He folded his hands on the table.
“Come work for me.”
I stared.
“As what?”
“Not what you're thinking.”
“I don't know what I'm thinking yet.”
“You'd be surprised how often people assume the worst.”
“Usually around mafia bosses?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Usually around intelligent women.”
I didn't answer.
He continued.
“I host dinners. Meetings. Private events. My household staff rotates constantly because most people are intimidated by the guests.”
“And you think I'm not?”
“I know you are.”
He leaned forward.
“You just don't let fear decide what you do.”
That sentence landed harder than I expected.
“What would I be doing?”
“Managing private dinners. Serving when necessary. Keeping the staff organized.”
“I already have a job.”
“I'll triple your salary.”
My breath caught.
He noticed.
“And Marco's medical bills?”
I forced myself to ask.
His expression changed.
“I'll pay them.”
I stood so fast the chair scraped across the floor.
“No.”
Several customers glanced toward us.
Alessandro remained seated.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Isabella.”
“I don't take charity.”
“It isn't charity.”
“Then what is it?”
He looked at me for a long moment.
“Insurance.”
I frowned.
“Against what?”
His eyes darkened.
“Against losing you before I figure out why someone has been asking questions about your brother.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
Alessandro reached into his coat again.
This time, he placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Marco leaving Lakeview Medical Center three days earlier.
A man in a gray coat stood twenty feet behind him.
Watching.
I picked up the picture.
“Who is that?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I've never seen him.”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“Then we have a problem.”
“What kind?”
He stood.
For once, the most feared man in Chicago didn't look amused.
He looked worried.
“That man worked for Salvatore.”
My throat went dry.
“The man you almost hit?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he be watching Marco?”
Alessandro looked directly into my eyes.
“That's what I need to know.”
Then he slid another photograph across the table.
This one had been taken inside the hospital lobby.
Marco was speaking to the man in the gray coat.
May you like
And my brother wasn't frightened.
He was smiling.
