Chapter 1 - Three Little Fingers
“Don’t make noise. The bad lady hears.”
Lorenzo Duca stopped walking.
Men had begged him for their lives without making his hands shake. Now a three-year-old girl had one of his fingers trapped in her tiny fist, and something about her whisper made it hard to breathe.
Mia Hayes tugged him down the quiet hallway of his waterfront estate.
She wore crooked pink socks. One sleeve of her sweater covered her hand.
“Who’s the bad lady, sweetheart?”
Mia pressed a finger to her lips.
Then she pointed at Vivien’s bedroom.
The door stood open an inch.
Inside, Lorenzo’s fiancée was speaking to Elena Hayes, the live-in maid who had cared for his mother since her stroke.
“You will tell him she approves,” Vivien said.
Elena stood beside a laundry basket, her shoulders straight.
“His mother doesn’t approve of the wedding.”
“His mother can barely finish a sentence.”
“She understands every word you say.”
Lorenzo went still.
Six weeks until the wedding. Invitations printed. Flowers ordered. Vivien’s family already treating his house like property they had inherited.
“I didn’t ask what she understands,” Vivien said. “I asked you to do your job.”
“My job isn’t lying to your fiancé.”
A sharp silence followed.
Then Vivien laughed.
“You clean his toilets, Elena. Don’t confuse that with having a place in this family.”
Mia’s fingers tightened.
Lorenzo crouched beside her.
Through the opening, he watched Vivien step closer to Elena.
“One phone call, and nobody in Boston hires you again.”
Elena swallowed.
“Then make the call.”
Vivien’s smile disappeared.
“And your daughter?”
Elena’s face changed.
“Leave Mia out of this.”
“Gates get left open,” Vivien said softly. “Cameras fail. Terrible things happen.”
Lorenzo felt Mia press her face into his chest.
For one violent second, he saw nothing except the door.
Then the little girl shook against him, and he understood that whatever happened next had to begin with getting her safe.
He lifted her carefully and backed away.
In his study, he settled her on his desk beside a framed photograph of his mother.
“Has she scared you before?”
Mia nodded.
“How many times?”
The child held up three fingers.
“Three?”
“Three months. Mommy said three months.”
Lorenzo stared at that little hand.
Three months beneath his roof.
Three months while he ate dinner with Vivien and let her kiss his cheek.
He called Rocco.
His lieutenant answered immediately.
“Boss?”
“Come to the study. Quietly.”
Mia caught his sleeve.
“Don’t tell the bad lady I told.”
Lorenzo covered her hand with his.
“You did nothing wrong.”
May you like
But when Rocco entered and saw the child trembling on the desk, Lorenzo’s voice became something the house had never heard before.
“Find out what else I’ve been too blind to see.”
