Chapter 1 - The Call That Made a Mafia Boss Run Home
Beatrice had served the Gallo family for twenty years, and in all that time, she had learned one rule better than any other:
Never interrupt Dominic Gallo when he was conducting business.
Not for a leaking pipe.
Not for a broken window.
Not even for the police.
But that afternoon, standing in the mansion's kitchen with trembling hands wrapped around an old telephone receiver, Beatrice broke the rule.
From beyond the hallway came the sound of something heavy crashing to the floor.
Then a woman screamed.
Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut.
She dialed Dominic's private number.
He answered on the third ring.
"Speak."
His voice was quiet.
That frightened her more.
"Mr. Gallo..."
Beatrice swallowed.
"Please come home now."
There was silence.
Dominic knew Beatrice.
She never exaggerated.
"What happened?"
"It's Miss Vivien."
His voice immediately changed.
"What about her?"
"She came through the gates. I don't know how. Frankie tried to stop her, but—"
A violent crash came from the drawing room.
Beatrice flinched.
"She's in there with Nora."
Dominic stood so quickly his chair scraped across the concrete warehouse floor.
Across the rusted aluminum table, Thomas and Vincent Russo stopped speaking.
Three minutes earlier, they had been desperately explaining how an expensive shipment had vanished between the docks and a distribution warehouse.
Now Dominic wasn't listening.
"Where are my guards?"
"I don't know."
"Beatrice."
Dominic's voice hardened.
"Tell me exactly what's happening."
Beatrice looked toward the drawing-room doors.
Another crash.
Then silence.
Terrible silence.
"Miss Vivien was screaming about taking back what belonged to her. She slapped me when I tried to stop her."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine."
"And Nora?"
Beatrice's voice broke.
"Please come home."
She lowered her voice to almost a whisper.
"She'll destroy her."
The line went dead.
Dominic stared at his phone.
Vivien.
Of all the people who could have entered his home, she was the one he feared most.
Not for himself.
For Nora.
Vivien Castellano had grown up around men who treated violence like another language. Her father, Arthur, controlled the West Side Syndicate, and his daughter had inherited his temper without inheriting his patience.
Dominic had once believed he could build an alliance with Arthur by keeping Vivien close.
That mistake had nearly cost him everything.
A year earlier, he ended their business arrangement.
He ended his relationship with Vivien the same night.
She had smiled when he told her.
Then she had leaned close enough for him to smell her perfume.
"Someday you'll find something you actually love," she had whispered. "And when you do, I'll make you understand what you did to me."
Dominic had dismissed it as wounded pride.
Then Nora came into his life.
Quiet Nora.
The woman who restored damaged paintings and apologized when she accidentally interrupted him.
The woman who spent rainy afternoons reading beneath the conservatory windows.
The woman who hated shouting.
Nora knew Dominic was dangerous.
She did not know everything.
At least, that was what he believed.
And Vivien had found her.
Dominic pushed away from the table.
"We're finished."
Thomas Russo blinked.
"But Mr. Gallo—"
Dominic looked at him once.
Thomas stopped speaking.
Dominic's two lieutenants, Leo and Matteo, followed him toward the warehouse exit.
Outside, rain hammered the city.
The chauffeur hurried toward the SUV.
Dominic took the keys from him.
"I'm driving."
"Boss—"
"Back seat."
Seconds later, the armored vehicle shot into traffic.
Dominic drove faster than he had driven in years.
Red lights became suggestions.
Horns screamed around him.
Rain smeared the city into streaks of yellow and white.
He barely noticed.
All he could see was Nora.
Small.
Gentle.
Unprepared.
He imagined Vivien standing over her.
Imagined Nora trying to reason with a woman who considered compassion a weakness.
Dominic tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Call Frankie," he ordered.
Leo tried.
"No answer."
"Gatehouse."
"No answer."
Dominic accelerated.
"Try Beatrice."
Leo called twice.
Nothing.
Dominic's chest tightened.
He hated the feeling.
Fear was something he forced other men to experience.
It was not supposed to belong to him.
But Beatrice's words repeated in his mind.
She'll destroy her.
He drove harder.
The estate finally appeared through the rain.
Its wrought-iron gates were open.
Dominic's stomach dropped.
"They're never left open," Matteo said.
"I know."
The SUV slid sideways across wet gravel as Dominic braked.
He was out before it completely stopped.
His pistol was already in his hand.
"Leo, east side. Matteo, with me."
They entered through the main doors.
The security keypad had been smashed.
"Frankie!"
No answer.
They found him near the coat closet.
Two hundred pounds of trained security lay unconscious against the wall.
Dominic crouched.
Pulse.
Alive.
"Call the doctor."
Matteo reached for his phone.
Dominic was already moving.
Then he saw Beatrice.
She stood near the kitchen corridor holding a towel against her cheek.
"Mr. Gallo."
"Where is Nora?"
Beatrice pointed toward the drawing room.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Dominic looked at the closed double doors.
A dark red line was slowly creeping beneath them.
His heart stopped.
Blood.
"Nora?"
No answer.
He approached.
Every instinct told him to kick open the doors immediately.
Yet for one terrible second, Dominic Gallo—the man who had stared down gunmen without blinking—was afraid to see what waited on the other side.
Then he kicked.
The doors flew inward.
His pistol swept across the room.
And Dominic froze.
The drawing room looked as though a storm had exploded inside it.
The antique coffee table was shattered.
Books covered the Persian rug.
A porcelain vase lay in fragments.
One curtain had been ripped from its brass rod.
And in the middle of the destruction was Vivien.
On her knees.
Crying.
Dominic stared at her.
Her expensive coat was torn.
Her blonde hair hung wildly around her face.
Her nose was bleeding.
One cheek was already swelling.
She looked terrified.
"Dom..."
Her voice broke.
"Please."
Dominic slowly lowered his weapon.
Because behind Vivien, sitting comfortably in his leather wingback chair, was Nora.
Alive.
Her legs were crossed at the ankles.
Her brown hair had come loose around her shoulders.
Her simple white dress was stained with crimson that clearly wasn't hers.
One hand held a crystal tumbler.
The knuckles of the other were bleeding.
Across her lap rested the heavy iron fireplace poker.
Nora took a small sip of whiskey.
Then she looked at Dominic.
"Home early."
Dominic could not speak.
Vivien crawled toward him.
"Get her away from me."
She grabbed his trouser leg.
"Dom, she's insane."
Nora's eyes moved toward Vivien.
Vivien immediately released Dominic and backed away.
That tiny reaction told him more than anything else in the room.
Vivien Castellano was afraid of Nora.
Not angry.
Not humiliated.
Afraid.
Nora rose slowly.
Vivien recoiled.
Nora walked toward her and crouched.
"I warned you."
Her voice was almost gentle.
Vivien trembled.
"I told you never to come into my home again."
Dominic stared.
Again?
Nora lifted a strand of blonde hair away from Vivien's face.
"You should have listened."
Then she stood and returned the fireplace poker to the hearth.
Beatrice appeared cautiously in the doorway.
Dominic turned toward her.
"Your phone call."
Beatrice's face went pale.
Dominic finally understood.
"She'll destroy her," he repeated.
Beatrice looked at Vivien.
Not Nora.
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
"You weren't afraid for Nora."
Beatrice slowly shook her head.
"No, sir."
The room became silent.
Nora poured herself another drink.
Dominic stared at her.
"Who are you?"
Nora looked over the rim of the glass.
"I'm exactly who I needed to be to survive your world."
Dominic's men reached the doorway.
Leo stopped dead.
"What happened?"
"Take Vivien downstairs," Dominic said.
Vivien immediately panicked.
"No! Dominic, listen to me. You don't understand who she is!"
Two men lifted her.
Vivien fought them.
"Ask her!"
Dominic watched her.
"Ask her what?"
Vivien stared at Nora.
Then something changed in her expression.
Fear gave way to desperate triumph.
"Ask your precious Nora why she knew my father before she ever met you."
Dominic's gaze snapped toward Nora.
For the first time, her calm expression shifted.
Only slightly.
But Dominic saw it.
Vivien laughed through bloody lips.
"She never told you, did she?"
Nora said nothing.
Vivien was dragged toward the door.
"Tell him your real name!"
Dominic raised one hand.
The guards stopped.
The entire room became still.
He looked at Nora.
"What does she mean?"
Nora placed her glass down.
A long silence followed.
Then she looked directly into his eyes.
"My name isn't Nora."
And suddenly Dominic understood that the broken room was not the most dangerous thing he had discovered that night.
May you like
The woman he loved had been keeping a secret long before Vivien ever walked through his door.
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