Chapter 7 - fractured trust
The master suite on the third floor was larger than any apartment Amelia had ever lived in. A king-sized bed with silk sheets, a connecting private nursery, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the misty grounds of the estate.
Yet Amelia could not sleep.
Leo was resting peacefully in the wooden crib beside her bed, his breathing deep and even, his tiny cheeks flushed with healthy color.
Amelia sat on the velvet sofa, holding the silver pendant she had retrieved from her suitcase. It was an angel wing, identical in weight, patina, and silver purity to the one Lorenzo had placed around Leo’s neck. When placed side by side, the two wings formed a complete pair.
Clara Rossi hadn't bought this in Salem.
Amelia’s mother had given Amelia this pendant on her deathbed five years ago, telling her: *"Your twin sister took the other half when she was adopted into wealth. If you ever find her, you’ll know her by this wing."*
Amelia’s hands trembled violently.
Clara Rossi—the revered, untouchable mafia queen whose framed portrait hung in the main gallery—was not just Lorenzo’s dead wife.
She was Amelia’s separated twin sister.
A soft knock at the connecting door broke her trance. Amelia rapidly shoved both pendants under the sofa cushion.
The door swung open. Lorenzo walked in, dressed in a fresh black shirt, holding a glass of warm milk.
"You need to drink something," Lorenzo said, offering her the glass. "You gave everything to my son tonight."
Amelia accepted the glass, her heart hammering against her ribs. Looking at Lorenzo now, knowing this powerful, terrifying man was her late sister’s husband, made the room spin.
"Did you find who let the Moretti courier inside?" Amelia asked, keeping her voice steady.
Lorenzo sat on the edge of the low table across from her. In the dim lamplight, the shadows carved across his cheekbones made him look impossibly handsome, yet infinitely tired.
"Marco questioned the gate guards," Lorenzo said. "One of them took a twenty-thousand-dollar wire transfer yesterday morning from an offshore shell company. He’s in the basement now. He’ll tell us who paid him before sunrise."
"And Marco?" Amelia asked tentatively. "Do you trust him?"
Lorenzo stared at her for a long moment. "Marco loved my wife like a sister. He would have burned the city to keep her safe." He paused, his eyes dropping to Amelia’s face. "You have her eyes, Amelia."
Amelia froze. "What?"
"When you looked at me tonight, holding Leo," Lorenzo whispered, his voice heavy with grief and an undeniable, magnetic pull. "For a second, I thought Clara had walked back through that door."
May you like
Before Amelia could respond, a sudden commotion echoed from the downstairs courtyard. Shouting guards, the screech of tires, and the sudden, violent sound of shattering glass.
***
