Chapter 1 - The Folded Drawing
Dominic Moretti did not look away from the empty hallway where the mother and child had disappeared.
He could still feel the phantom weight of the folded crayon drawing pressing against his chest.
His right-hand man, Enzo, stood perfectly still beside the grand marble staircase.
"And if someone’s threatening her?" Enzo had asked, breaking the heavy silence of the foyer.
Dominic finally turned his cold, calculating gaze toward his most trusted enforcer.
"Then we put them in the ground," Dominic answered quietly.
Enzo nodded without a single trace of hesitation.
"I want to know her real name, her background, and every place she has lived in the last five years," Dominic ordered.
"Clara has been working in the kitchen for six months, boss," Enzo pointed out.
"The background check we ran when she was hired came back completely clean."
Dominic adjusted his suit jacket, his jaw clenching with dark suspicion.
"Clean records are easy to buy if you are running from the right kind of monsters," Dominic replied.
He turned and walked toward his private study, leaving Enzo to carry out the investigation.
Deep in the servant's quarters, Clara locked the heavy wooden door to her small bedroom.
Her hands were shaking violently as she knelt beside her three-year-old daughter.
"Lily, you cannot ever speak to Mr. Moretti like that again," Clara whispered frantically.
Lily pouted, clutching her battered stuffed rabbit against her chest.
"But you need a friend, Mommy," the little girl argued innocently.
"Mr. Moretti is a very dangerous man, Lily, he is not our friend," Clara pleaded, tears spilling down her pale cheeks.
She hugged her daughter tightly, terrified that Dominic would throw them out onto the streets.
If they were forced to leave the heavily guarded mansion, the men hunting her would find them in a matter of hours.
Clara reached under her mattress and pulled out a hidden, prepaid burner phone.
She turned it on, waiting for the cracked screen to light up.
There was one new voicemail from an untraceable number.
May you like
Clara pressed the phone to her ear, her blood turning entirely to ice as a familiar, cruel voice echoed through the speaker.
"You really thought hiding in a mafia boss's house would keep you safe from me, Clara?" the man on the recording laughed.
