Chapter 1 - The Empty Chair
The wound beneath Alessandro Romano’s shoulder throbbed, a sharp reminder of the bullet he’d dug out of his own flesh forty-eight hours ago, but the dull ache in his chest was infinitely worse.
He stared at the small mahogany chair tucked beside his imposing oak desk. It was empty. The box of pastel crayons sat closed; the sketchpads were untouched. Worst of all, resting squarely in the center of the seat was a battered, one-eared stuffed rabbit named Poppy.
Alessandro’s dark eyes locked onto the folded scrap of paper next to the toy. His fingers, calloused from decades of holding power over the Chicago underworld, trembled slightly as he picked it up. The handwriting was jagged, uneven, written with a clumsy red crayon by a hand that had barely learned to hold one.
I am going now. Please let Mommy stay.
The memory of the previous night slammed into him. He had been sitting at this very desk, his voice cold as winter steel when he issued the decree to his lieutenant about Clara’s brother, Leo, who had skimmed twenty thousand dollars from the north-side shipping manifests. Twenty-four hours. They’re both gone. He hadn’t known Lily was crouching behind the heavy velvet curtains, listening with wide, terrified eyes. She hadn’t understood corporate debt or syndicate loyalty. She had only understood that her family was a liability, and she had chosen to sacrifice herself to save her mother.
"Vance!" Alessandro’s voice cracked like a whip through the quiet study.
The heavy oak door swung open instantly. Vance, his most trusted captain, stepped inside, taking one look at Alessandro’s face and standing at rigid attention.
"Boss. We checked the staff quarters. Clara is beside herself—she woke up to find the bed cold and Lily gone. We've got perimeter cameras rolling back—"
"Forget the cameras," Alessandro cut him off, his voice dropping into a lethal, low register. "When was the last motion sensor tripped at the main gates?"
"That's just it," Vance said, his brow furrowing with unease. "None of them were. The biometric logs show zero exits from the estate after midnight."
Alessandro’s blood ran cold. If the gates hadn't opened, Lily hadn't walked out into the freezing Chicago night on her own.
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Someone had taken her. Or someone had helped her walk right into a trap.
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