Chapter 1 - I Only Have a Daughter
My name is Garrick Morello.
People who did not know me personally had called me a Mafia boss for most of my adult life.
The Morello name had earned part of that reputation long before I was born.
My grandfather had been convicted in federal court.
Two older relatives had gone to prison.
There were photographs of men in my family standing outside courthouses that still appeared whenever a newspaper needed decoration for an article about organized crime.
By forty-four, what I actually ran was Morello Group.
Food distribution.
Commercial property.
Restaurants.
A private security company.
Everything licensed.
Everything audited.
Everything boring enough that my grandfather would probably have considered the paperwork an insult.
But none of that mattered on my wedding night.
The only thing that mattered was my daughter falling down a staircase.
Daphne was seven.
Small.
Dark-blonde hair tied with a satin ribbon.
Pale-pink flower-girl dress.
She had spent the entire afternoon trying to behave older than she was because she believed weddings required:
“professional manners.”
The reception filled the ballroom of Morello House, an enormous old mansion outside New York that my family used for private events.
Three hundred guests.
Black tuxedos.
Crystal.
Flowers.
Security around the perimeter because my surname created problems even when nobody intended one.
Miranda stood at the top of the grand staircase.
My bride.
Forty years old.
White wedding gown.
Diamonds.
Beautiful enough that half the room had turned when she entered earlier.
I was below the staircase speaking to a business partner when Daphne walked across the upper landing.
She was trying to get past Miranda.
I saw Miranda turn.
Then I saw her foot move.
Not accidentally.
Not because her dress caught.
She kicked Daphne from behind.
My daughter pitched forward.
Her hands reached for nothing.
Then she began tumbling.
One carpeted step.
Another.
Another.
Miranda looked down at her.
Smirking.
“Go join your dead mother.”
I was already running.
“DAPHNE!”
She rolled toward the lower half of the staircase.
I reached her before she fell farther.
Caught her around the torso.
Pulled her against me.
She screamed once.
Then buried her face in my chest.
“I’ve got you.”
Her fingers clawed into my tuxedo.
I checked her head.
Arms.
Legs.
No blood.
No obvious deformity.
Still shaking.
“Daddy.”
“I’m here.”
She pointed upward.
Miranda remained on the landing.
Daphne was crying so hard the words came broken.
“She said I disappear after the wedding.”
The ballroom had gone almost completely silent.
I looked toward Nolan Price, the head of my personal security detail.
He had worked for me eleven years.
Trusted him with my life.
More importantly, Daphne trusted him.
I handed her to him gently.
“Keep her with you.”
Nolan took her.
“I’ve got her.”
I went back up the staircase.
Not running this time.
Miranda lifted her chin.
“Garrick—”
I slapped her.
One open-handed strike.
Hard.
Her head snapped sideways.
She spun and crashed onto the carpeted landing.
I did not hit her again.
Daphne was already safe in Nolan’s arms.
The immediate threat had ended.
Whatever justification existed for protecting my child did not automatically justify what my hand did next.
I would have to answer for that.
Not yet.
Miranda slowly pushed herself upright.
One hand against her cheek.
Her veil had twisted.
Her smile returned.
Venomous.
“Humiliate me, and your mother loses this mansion.” No. Wrong source. Need exact. She says cancel this wedding. Correct.
She looked directly at me.
“Cancel this wedding, and you’ll never meet your son.”
I froze halfway down the staircase.
The room disappeared around me.
I turned back.
My voice came out colder than I felt.
“I only have a daughter.”
May you like
Miranda’s smile grew.
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