Chapter 1 - THE MAN IN THE MIRROR
Alessandro stared at his reflection.
A yellow flower covered one cheek.
A crooked blue butterfly rested above his eyebrow.
The orange sun on his chin made the most feared man in New York look almost ridiculous.
Behind him, Vincent stood as still as a statue.
Sophia kept both arms around Emma.
She could feel her daughter’s small heartbeat against her ribs.
Alessandro slowly turned away from the mirror.
His face revealed nothing.
“Who gave her the paint?”
His voice was quiet.
That made it worse.
Sophia swallowed.
“I did, sir.”
Vincent looked at her in alarm.
Sophia forced herself to continue.
“I left the box on the service cart.”
“It was my fault.”
Emma tugged on her mother’s skirt.
“No, Mama.”
She looked up at Alessandro.
“I found it.”
Sophia closed her eyes briefly.
Alessandro walked toward them.
Each step echoed across the marble floor.
Sophia moved Emma behind her again.
Alessandro stopped less than two feet away.
“You believe I would hurt a child?”
Sophia met his eyes.
“I don’t know what you would do.”
Vincent inhaled sharply.
No employee spoke to Alessandro Moretti that way.
No one who wished to remain employed.
Or alive.
But something changed in Alessandro’s expression.
Not anger.
Recognition.
He looked down at Emma.
The little girl peeked around her mother’s hip.
“Do you still feel sad?” Emma asked.
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“What makes you think I was sad?”
“You were sleeping with your hand like this.”
She pressed her small fist against her chest.
“My mama sleeps like that when she cries quietly.”
Sophia’s face burned.
“Emma.”
“It’s true.”
Alessandro’s gaze returned to Sophia.
For one uncomfortable moment, she felt as if he could see every sleepless night she had survived.
Then he looked back at the mirror.
“Vincent.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Cancel the afternoon meetings.”
Vincent blinked.
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
Alessandro lowered himself until he was at Emma’s eye level.
“What is your name?”
“Emma.”
“Emma what?”
“Emma Bennett.”
Something flashed across Alessandro’s face.
It vanished so quickly Sophia wondered if she had imagined it.
“Bennett,” he repeated.
Sophia stiffened.
Alessandro noticed.
“Who is her father?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Vincent stared at her again.
Alessandro rose slowly.
“Everything that enters my house becomes my concern.”
“We won’t be staying.”
Sophia grabbed Emma’s coat from the chair.
“I understand that I’m dismissed.”
“No.”
Alessandro’s answer came immediately.
Sophia paused.
“No?”
“You are not dismissed.”
He looked at the shattered teacup.
“You will clean that.”
Then he pointed toward the paint on his face.
“And she will finish.”
Sophia thought she had misheard him.
Emma’s eyes widened.
“Finish the picture?”
Alessandro sat back on the sofa.
“You left one side empty.”
Emma smiled so brightly that even Vincent’s severe expression softened.
Sophia remained frozen.
Alessandro tilted his head.
“Unless you are afraid of me.”
Emma shook her head.
“Mama is.”
Sophia nearly stopped breathing.
A faint sound escaped Vincent.
It might have been a cough.
Or a suppressed laugh.
Alessandro’s gaze stayed on Sophia.
“She is honest.”
“Painfully,” Sophia muttered.
Emma picked up the brush.
She approached Alessandro and painted a second flower near his temple.
He did not move.
He did not smile.
But he allowed it.
For the first time in her three months at the estate, Sophia saw something human beneath the legendary cruelty.
Then heavy footsteps thundered outside the room.
A tall woman in a black silk dress entered without knocking.
Her silver hair was arranged perfectly.
Diamonds glittered at her throat.
Her name was Isabella Moretti.
Alessandro’s mother.
The true queen of the family.
She stopped when she saw Emma touching her son’s face.
Her expression twisted with disgust.
“What is this?”
Sophia stepped forward.
“I apologize, Mrs. Moretti.”
Isabella ignored her.
She looked at Alessandro.
“You canceled a meeting with Senator Hale for this?”
Emma lowered the paintbrush.
Isabella’s eyes moved to the child.
“Why is a servant’s daughter in our private wing?”
Sophia’s grip tightened around Emma’s shoulder.
Alessandro stood.
“She is my guest.”
Isabella laughed once.
“A maid’s child?”
“She has a name.”
The room became silent again.
Isabella studied her son.
Then she turned toward Sophia.
“Take the girl downstairs.”
Sophia started to move.
Alessandro’s voice stopped her.
“No.”
His mother’s face hardened.
“You are contradicting me over an employee?”
“I am correcting you in my house.”
Isabella’s gaze sharpened.
“This house belonged to your father.”
“And now it belongs to me.”
For several seconds, mother and son faced each other.
Old anger filled the room.
Emma tugged Alessandro’s sleeve.
“Your mama is mad.”
Vincent turned away to hide his expression.
Isabella looked as though she had been slapped.
Alessandro looked down at Emma.
“Yes.”
“Did you paint on her face too?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
Sophia covered her mouth.
Alessandro’s lips almost moved.
Almost.
Isabella stepped closer.
“This is not amusing.”
“No,” Alessandro said calmly.
“It is not.”
His voice became colder.
“You entered my office without permission.”
“You canceled critical negotiations.”
“I made a decision.”
“You have made too many decisions lately without consulting the family.”
“This is not a council.”
“It will be when your uncle arrives.”
Alessandro’s eyes narrowed.
“Why is Carlo coming?”
Isabella smiled without warmth.
“To discuss your future.”
“My future is not open for discussion.”
“Your marriage is.”
Sophia lowered her gaze.
That conversation had nothing to do with her.
At least, she believed it didn’t.
Isabella looked directly at her.
“Especially now that certain people have forgotten their place.”
Before Sophia could respond, a crash came from the front hall.
A guard shouted.
Another voice followed.
A man’s voice.
Furious.
Drunk.
Familiar.
“Sophia!”
Her blood turned cold.
Emma dropped the paintbrush.
“Mama?”
The voice came again.
“I know you’re in there!”
Sophia stared toward the doorway.
Her ex-husband had found her.
And somehow, he had entered the most heavily guarded estate in New York.
Alessandro wiped the smile from his eyes.
“Who is that?”
Sophia could barely speak.
“My daughter’s father.”
Then Ryan Bennett stormed into the room holding a knife.
And the first person he looked at was not Sophia.
May you like
It was Alessandro.
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