Chapter 1 - THE ONE ORDER MARCO DIDN’T EXPECT
Marco expected me to tell him to bring me Kolov’s men.
Instead, I said, “Nobody touches anyone.”
His expression changed.
“Boss?”
Lucia stared at me too.
Emma lay unconscious on the sofa while Dr. Marino worked over her, cutting away the torn sleeve of her uniform. The Castellano crest was dark with rain and blood.
“Find the men,” I said. “Watch them. Follow them. Learn who they call.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
“They nearly killed her.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why are we waiting?”
Because twenty years of surviving men like Viktor Kolov had taught me one thing.
Rage made you predictable.
And whoever had chosen Emma wanted me predictable.
“They wanted a reaction,” I said. “I’m not giving them the one they prepared for.”
Marco slowly nodded.
“Understood.”
Then Dr. Marino stood.
“She needs a hospital.”
Emma’s eyes opened immediately.
“No.”
Her voice was barely there.
I crouched beside her.
“You need imaging.”
“No hospital.”
“Emma.”
She tried to sit and nearly collapsed.
“My mother.”
Lucia knelt beside her.
“We’ll call her.”
Emma shook her head frantically.
“She can’t know.”
Even half-conscious, she was worried about frightening the woman whose chemotherapy she was paying for.
That angered me almost as much as the attack.
“You’re going,” I said.
She looked at me.
For fourteen months, Emma Carter had called me Mr. Castellano.
Never Dominic.
Never argued.
Never asked for favors.
Now, bruised and barely able to focus, she whispered:
“I can’t afford it.”
Something inside me went very still.
“You work in my house.”
“That doesn’t mean you pay my hospital bill.”
“It does tonight.”
Her swollen mouth tightened.
“I’ll repay you.”
Lucia almost cried.
I didn’t.
I simply said, “Fine.”
It was a lie.
Emma would never repay a cent.
Twenty minutes later, my security team moved her through the underground garage into a private medical facility I trusted.
I stayed behind.
Marco returned at 2:13 a.m.
“We found the alley camera.”
“And?”
“One attacker showed his face.”
He placed a tablet in front of me.
A heavyset man stepped beneath a pharmacy awning.
Snake tattoo around his wrist.
Anton Velez.
I knew him.
Not personally.
But I knew what he was.
A collector who had worked for Viktor Kolov for nearly eight years.
“There’s more,” Marco said.
He zoomed the footage.
Emma was already handing over her purse.
Already complying.
Anton started to walk away.
Then his partner saw the crest.
I watched them stop.
Turn back.
Everything after that became deliberate.
Marco froze the image.
“Look at his mouth.”
I leaned closer.
The camera had no audio.
But Marco had enhanced the frames enough that I could read the shape of the words.
Carter.
The attacker had not simply recognized my crest.
He had recognized Emma.
“Run her family.”
Marco hesitated.
“You already had basic background when we hired her.”
“I want everything.”
At sunrise, the report arrived.
Emma Carter.
Twenty-six.
Mother: Rose Carter.
Brother: Nathan Carter.
Father: deceased.
Thomas Carter.
Construction accident.
Twelve years earlier.
Nothing unusual.
Until Marco found the original death certificate.
Thomas Carter had not died under that name.
The identity had been legally changed eight months before Emma was born.
Previous name:
Tommaso Caruso.
My stomach turned cold.
Marco stared at me.
“You know that name.”
I did.
Everyone from my father’s generation did.
Tommaso Caruso had been the accountant who disappeared after stealing a ledger from Viktor Kolov.
The ledger men had died trying to find.
And suddenly I understood why Anton Velez had stopped when he saw Emma’s face.
May you like
The attack wasn’t really about my family crest.
It was about her father.
