Chapter 1 - THE BUTTON IN THE BLOOD
Sophia pressed a clean linen cloth against Lorenzo Duca’s chest and tried not to think about how much blood had already soaked through his shirt.
Her hands were steady.
That surprised her.
For seven years, she had worked in the Duca estate by making herself small. She had learned to move silently through hallways full of armed men. She had learned which guests expected eye contact and which considered it disrespect. She had learned to keep Emma away from the west wing after dark and never ask why certain rooms were locked from the outside.
But no one had taught her what to do when the most feared man in the city was tied to a chair beneath his own mansion.
Emma sat on the third stone stair clutching Biscotti to her chest.
The cat purred against her shaking arms, completely indifferent to blood, betrayal, and the fact that the entire Duca empire might be collapsing one floor above them.
“Mama,” Emma whispered. “Is Uncle Lorenzo sick?”
Sophia looked over her shoulder.
“He is hurt.”
“Did somebody hurt him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Sophia swallowed.
Because men with power often believed loyalty was permanent.
Because Lorenzo Duca had trusted someone inside his own house.
Because Sophia had seen Vincent Romano smiling in Lorenzo’s office two hours earlier, and now she understood why.
“I don’t know yet,” Sophia said.
But that was not entirely true.
She knew enough.
The blood on Lorenzo’s shirt had begun to clot around a wound near his ribs. His left wrist was purple beneath the plastic restraint. There was bruising along his jaw, suggesting he had been struck repeatedly before being dragged into the cellar.
Yet the strangest thing was not the blood.
It was the missing button.
Sophia noticed it while reaching beneath his sleeve for the restraint.
Lorenzo wore custom white shirts. Everyone in the household knew that. His cuffs were always fastened with small black mother-of-pearl buttons, each one engraved with a tiny silver D.
But one button was gone.
Not from the cuff.
From the collar.
A thread dangled loosely against his neck.
Sophia stared at it.
There was no reason for a collar button to be missing unless someone had grabbed him by the throat.
Or unless Lorenzo had torn it off himself.
Her gaze dropped to the floor.
Near the broken pocket watch, beneath an overturned wooden crate, something black glimmered between the stones.
Sophia reached for it.
A button.
Not Lorenzo’s.
It was dark navy, expensive, and edged in silver thread.
Sophia had seen it before.
That morning, Vincent Romano had worn a navy suit with a narrow silver stripe at the cuff.
Her heart began to pound.
“Don’t touch anything else,” Lorenzo breathed behind the tape.
Sophia froze.
His eyes were open wider now.
“Lorenzo?”
He tried to move his hand.
The tape across his mouth shifted with the effort.
Sophia leaned close.
“I’m going to remove it,” she whispered. “Can you breathe?”
He blinked once.
She peeled the tape away as carefully as she could.
Lorenzo’s breath came out rough and low.
“Vincent,” he said.
Sophia’s stomach dropped.
“I knew it.”
“No.” Lorenzo coughed, his face tightening with pain. “You suspected. There’s a difference.”
“He did this?”
“He didn’t do it alone.”
Upstairs, somewhere beyond the pantry door, a bell rang.
Once.
Then twice.
Sophia recognized the sound.
It was the internal house summons. The signal used when Vincent wanted all available guards to report to the main hall.
Lorenzo heard it too.
His face changed.
“They think I’m dead,” he whispered.
Sophia looked toward the stairs.
“What do we do?”
“Marco?”
“On his way.”
“Good.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes for one second.
Then opened them again.
“Listen to me, Sophia. Vincent has been planning this for months. Maybe longer. He has men inside the estate. He has people in the police department, the port authority, and probably my own security office.”
Sophia’s throat tightened.
“Why?”
“Because he wants the Duca accounts.”
“And you?”
“He wants me dead.”
Emma’s voice came from the stairs.
“Uncle Lorenzo?”
Lorenzo looked toward her.
The hardness left his face for the first time.
“Hi, principessa,” he said softly.
Emma clutched Biscotti tighter.
“Emma tried to cut the ties.”
“I know.”
“Scissors broke.”
“You were brave.”
Her little face crumpled.
“I don’t like blood.”
“No one should.”
A sound came from above.
The pantry door opened.
Sophia’s blood turned cold.
Footsteps crossed the kitchen floor.
Not Marco.
Marco would have called out.
These steps were slow.
Measured.
Then Vincent Romano’s voice floated through the pantry.
“Sophia?”
She looked at Lorenzo.
His eyes sharpened instantly.
“Do not answer,” he mouthed.
Emma shifted on the stair.
“Mama?”
Sophia moved fast.
She gathered Emma into her arms, lifting her from the steps. Biscotti jumped from the child’s grip and disappeared behind the wine rack.
Vincent’s footsteps stopped above them.
“Sophia,” he called again, warmer this time. “I know you are down there.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
Sophia held Emma against her chest. Her daughter’s little fingers clutched at the front of her apron.
“What does he want?” Emma whispered.
Sophia pressed a kiss to her hair.
“He wants us to be scared.”
“Are we?”
Sophia looked at Lorenzo tied to the chair.
At the blood.
At the broken pink scissors.
At the navy button in her palm.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But scared people can still make smart choices.”
Vincent began descending the stairs.
Sophia had only seconds.
She bent down, slipped the navy button into Lorenzo’s shirt pocket, and grabbed the broken half of Emma’s scissors from her apron.
Then she stood.
The cellar door creaked wider.
Vincent appeared at the top of the stone steps.
His navy suit was immaculate.
Almost.
Sophia’s eyes went immediately to his collar.
One button was missing.
Vincent smiled.
“There you are,” he said.
Then his gaze moved past her.
To Lorenzo.
To the blood.
To the iron chair.
His smile vanished.
For the first time, Vincent Romano looked afraid.
And Sophia understood something terrifying.
May you like
He had not expected Lorenzo to survive.
Which meant whoever had planned the betrayal was still upstairs, still giving orders, and still waiting for confirmation that the Duca boss was dead.
