Chapter 1 - The Broken Silence
The heavy silver cane echoed like a gunshot as it struck the pristine marble floor of the restaurant.
Salvatore Vitiello stared at me with eyes that suddenly looked completely hollow and haunted.
My great-grandmother's name hung in the tense air between us like a dangerous ghost.
"Rosalia," I whispered again, my voice trembling slightly under the weight of their intense stares.
Mateo stepped forward immediately, his massive frame shielding his father from the rest of the terrified room.
"Clear the restaurant right now," Mateo ordered without ever raising his deep, intimidating voice.
My manager scrambled frantically to obey, pushing the pale waitstaff toward the swinging kitchen doors.
I tried to step back with them, desperate to blend into the shadows and disappear like I always did.
Mateo’s large, warm hand shot out, his long fingers wrapping firmly around my fragile wrist.
His touch sent a dangerous jolt of electricity straight up my arm and into my chest.
"You are not going anywhere, Tessa," Mateo stated, his cool gray eyes locking entirely onto mine.
Salvatore slowly bent down to pick up his cane, his weathered hands shaking in a way I never expected from a mafia boss.
The old man walked right up to me, invading my personal space until I could smell his expensive cigar smoke.
He reached out and suddenly pulled the delicate silver chain hidden beneath my modest uniform collar.
At the end of the chain hung a tarnished, heavy iron key that my mother had given me before she died.
Salvatore gasped loudly, taking a stumbling step backward as if the cold metal key had physically burned him.
"She is the true bloodline," the old man rasped in harsh, rapid Sicilian.
I pulled my necklace back aggressively, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs in pure panic.
"I just want to do my job and go home to study," I pleaded, looking up at Mateo for any sign of mercy.
My manager peeked out from the kitchen doors, his face slick with nervous sweat and fear.
"You are fired, Tessa," my manager yelled, eager to appease the dangerous men standing in his dining room.
"Get out of my restaurant right now before you get us all killed."
Tears pricked my eyes as my only source of nursing school tuition vanished in a single, unfair instant.
Mateo did not let go of my wrist, his grip tightening just enough to prove I was his prisoner.
Instead, he pulled me flush against his hard, muscular chest, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
"She does not work for you anymore," Mateo declared coldly over his shoulder to the trembling manager.
He looked down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips before meeting my terrified eyes once more.
"She belongs to the Vitiello family now," he whispered against my ear.
He dragged me toward the front exit of the restaurant, his father following closely behind us with his bodyguards.
The cool Chicago night air hit my flushed face as Mateo pushed me toward a waiting fleet of black armored SUVs.
I opened my mouth to scream for help, praying a passing police car would hear me.
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Before I could make a sound, the deafening roar of automatic gunfire erupted from a black van speeding down the street.
Mateo tackled me violently to the concrete sidewalk, shielding my entire body with his own as bullets shattered the restaurant windows.
