Chapter 1 - The Girl Who Ran Into the Restaurant
The restaurant went silent the moment Sylvio Romano lifted his fork.
A barefoot little girl, soaked from the rain, burst through the doorway and screamed, “Don’t eat that!”
For one heartbeat, nobody moved.
Then the entire room changed.
Chairs scraped.
Hands went beneath jackets.
Vincent Caruso stepped forward so fast that the nearest waiter nearly stumbled backward.
Marco Torino rose halfway from his chair.
The pianist stopped playing.
And Sylvio Romano remained perfectly still.
His fork hovered above the saffron risotto.
He looked at the little girl.
She couldn't have been more than six.
Maybe seven.
Her dark hair was plastered to her forehead. Rainwater ran down her cheeks and dripped from the sleeves of a jacket several sizes too large.
She was barefoot.
One foot was bleeding.
Her clothes were dirty.
Her breathing came in frantic little bursts.
But her eyes were fixed on Sylvio's plate.
“Don't eat it,” she whispered.
Sylvio slowly lowered the fork.
The room waited.
He looked at Vincent.
“Close the doors.”
The restaurant doors shut.
No one was leaving.
No one was entering.
The little girl looked around and seemed to realize that twenty men had suddenly turned their attention toward her.
She took one frightened step backward.
Sylvio raised one hand.
“Everybody stay where you are.”
The room obeyed.
His voice was quiet.
That made it more frightening.
He looked at the girl.
“Come here.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“What's your name?”
She said nothing.
“You're not in trouble.”
She didn't believe him.
Sylvio had been lied to by men with guns for forty years.
He knew fear when he saw it.
The girl's fear was different.
It wasn't fear of punishment.
It was fear of consequences.
As though she knew she had just done something dangerous and expected someone to make her pay for it.
Sylvio pushed his plate away.
“Why shouldn't I eat?”
The little girl stared at the food.
“Because it will make you stop breathing.”
A murmur traveled through the restaurant.
Sylvio's eyes sharpened.
“Who told you?”
She looked toward the entrance.
Nobody.
Then she whispered,
“I know.”
Vincent glanced at Sylvio.
Sylvio nodded once.
“Test the food.”
Vincent motioned to a security man.
A small amount was collected and taken to the kitchen lab they used for wine and ingredient verification.
Another plate was tested.
Then another.
Sylvio looked back at the girl.
“Where did you come from?”
She pointed behind her.
“Outside.”
“Where were you before that?”
She swallowed.
“A building.”
“What building?”
“I don't know.”
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.”
“From who?”
She shook her head.
Sylvio leaned forward.
“Kid, you just saved my life.”
Her lips trembled.
“I didn't want anybody to die.”
Then the kitchen door flew open.
A chemist rushed into the dining room.
“Boss.”
Sylvio looked at him.
The man's face was pale.
“What?”
“We found something.”
Silence.
“It's a neurotoxin.”
Vincent's hand moved toward his weapon.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Enough for what?”
The chemist swallowed.
“Enough to kill everyone who ate from the plate.”
Sylvio looked at the little girl.
She lowered her head.
“What's your name?”
She whispered,
“Mia.”
“Mia what?”
“Mia Bell.”
Sylvio repeated it.
“Mia Bell.”
The girl nodded.
He stood.
“Who taught you about poison?”
She didn't answer.
Sylvio walked around the table.
Vincent tried to intercept.
Sylvio held up a hand.
He stopped.
Sylvio crouched in front of the child.
He was six-foot-three.
She was tiny.
But he made himself smaller.
“Who taught you?”
Mia stared at him.
“My mom.”
“Where is she?”
Her face crumpled.
“She's dead.”
The answer was so quiet that even the men standing nearby looked away.
Sylvio's expression hardened.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“Who took care of you after?”
Mia said nothing.
That told him enough.
He looked at Vincent.
“Get a doctor.”
“I'll handle it.”
“Now.”
Vincent moved.
Sylvio removed his coat.
He put it around Mia's shoulders.
She stiffened.
“You'll be warm.”
“I'm dirty.”
“I noticed.”
“You shouldn't touch me.”
“Why?”
“People get angry.”
Sylvio studied her.
“No one is angry.”
She looked at the poisoned plate.
“I made you angry.”
“No.”
“Then why are everyone looking at me?”
“Because you walked into a room full of dangerous men and told them their boss was about to die.”
Mia looked genuinely confused.
“Was I supposed to let you die?”
Sylvio almost smiled.
“No.”
The doctor arrived.
Mia was examined in a private room.
She was dehydrated.
Malnourished.
Covered in small bruises.
A cut on her foot.
No major injuries.
But the doctor noticed something else.
“She's been exposed to something.”
Sylvio looked at him.
“What?”
The doctor hesitated.
“A very low concentration of a similar toxin.”
The room went still.
Sylvio looked at Mia.
“What?”
“She has traces in her blood.”
“How?”
“We don't know.”
Mia began crying.
Sylvio crouched beside her.
“Who gave you the poison?”
She shook her head.
“They made me drink it.”
Sylvio's expression became lethal.
“Who?”
Mia stared at the floor.
“The bad doctor.”
“What doctor?”
“I don't know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Gray hair.”
“Anything else?”
“He had a scar here.”
She touched her left cheek.
Sylvio's blood ran cold.
He knew that description.
Dr. Adrian Vale.
A toxicologist who had once worked for the Romano family.
A brilliant man.
A traitor.
A man who had supposedly died fifteen years ago.
Sylvio stood.
“Vincent.”
His head of security entered.
“Boss?”
“Find Vale.”
Vincent froze.
“Vale?”
Sylvio nodded.
“He's alive.”
Vincent stared.
“We buried him.”
“No.”
Sylvio looked at the poisoned plate.
“We buried a body.”
Mia looked up.
“Are you going to kill him?”
Sylvio stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because that's what bad men do.”
He looked toward the door.
Then back at her.
“Sometimes.”
The little girl went quiet.
Sylvio softened his voice.
“But not tonight.”
Outside, rain hammered against the windows.
Inside, the most feared man in the city realized that the child who had just saved his life had been used as a test subject.
And the man who had been declared dead fifteen years earlier had returned.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The toxin had been designed specifically for Sylvio Romano.
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Which meant someone had been planning his murder for a very long time.
And somehow, Mia Bell was the only living person who knew how.
