Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Takes Her Away
The car was waiting beneath the stone archway.
Black.
Armored.
Completely silent.
A driver opened the rear door.
Lucien gestured for Saraphina to enter first.
She sat.
He followed.
The door closed.
The noise of the gala disappeared.
For the first time all evening, there was silence.
Real silence.
Not the humiliating kind.
Not the tense kind.
Just quiet.
Saraphina stared out the window.
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap.
Lucien noticed.
"You're shaking."
"I'm fine."
"That's not an answer."
She looked at him.
"Do you always interrogate people?"
"Only when they're lying."
"I said I'm fine."
"And I know you're not."
She turned toward the window again.
The city lights slipped past.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Lucien said:
"You can tell me to take you home."
Saraphina looked at him.
"I thought you said my father's driver was forgotten."
"He is."
"What happens if I say take me home?"
"You'll go."
She studied him.
"You really mean that?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you said yes to coming with me."
"And if I change my mind?"
"Then you say no."
The answer surprised her.
She looked down.
"No one in my family would accept that."
"I'm not your family."
Something in his tone made her look up.
He wasn't asking to be.
The car turned toward downtown.
Saraphina expected a nightclub.
Or an underground headquarters.
Maybe a fortress.
Instead, they stopped outside a hotel.
The Moretti Grand.
She stared.
"This is yours?"
"One of them."
"Why are we here?"
"Because you need a room."
"I have a room at home."
"You don't have to return tonight."
She looked away.
She hadn't realized how badly she needed permission not to go home until he gave it.
Inside, the lobby was almost empty.
Security surrounded the building discreetly.
Lucien led her toward a private elevator.
They entered.
He pressed the top floor.
When the elevator doors closed, Saraphina finally asked the question burning in her mind.
"Why me?"
Lucien looked straight ahead.
"Because you were standing alone."
"That's not enough."
"No."
The elevator stopped.
They stepped into a private suite.
It was enormous.
Warm lighting.
Bookshelves.
A fireplace.
Large windows overlooking the city.
No unnecessary decoration.
Unlike the Palazzo Bellacorte, this place felt lived in.
Lucien stepped aside.
"You can sleep here."
Saraphina looked around.
"You're giving me the entire suite?"
"Yes."
"Where will you sleep?"
"My office."
She frowned.
"You're not staying here?"
"Not unless you ask me to."
The words made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn't explain.
"You're very strange."
"I've been called worse."
He walked toward the door.
Saraphina turned.
"Lucien."
He stopped.
"Thank you."
He nodded.
Then left.
She locked the door after him.
She should have felt afraid.
Instead, she felt safe.
That terrified her.
The following morning she woke to sunlight.
For several seconds she forgot where she was.
Then she remembered.
She got dressed in a simple blouse and skirt that had been provided.
When she entered the living room, breakfast waited.
Lucien sat near the windows reading a folder.
He looked up.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
She sat across from him.
He pushed a phone toward her.
"Your father called."
Saraphina stared at the screen.
"I don't want to answer."
"You don't have to."
"What did he say?"
"He wants you home."
Saraphina laughed bitterly.
"Of course he does."
Lucien watched her.
"Do you want to go?"
"No."
"Then you won't."
She looked at him.
"You're making this very easy."
"It isn't easy."
"Then why do you act like it is?"
"Because someone should."
She looked away.
Lucien closed the folder.
"Tell me about your family."
Saraphina stiffened.
"Why?"
"Because I already know they're not what they pretend to be."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Your father has been moving money through shell companies for years."
Her expression changed.
"What?"
Lucien slid documents across the table.
Saraphina read.
Transfers.
Invoices.
Fake companies.
Payments to people she had never heard of.
"This can't be."
"It is."
"My father owns legitimate businesses."
"He does."
"Then why..."
"Because legitimate businesses are useful covers."
She looked up.
"Are you saying he's involved in organized crime?"
Lucien didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Saraphina's stomach turned.
She had always known her father was ruthless.
She had never imagined this.
"What does this have to do with me?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
She stared at the documents.
Then noticed a familiar name.
"Marco Bellini."
Lucien's expression changed.
"You know him?"
"He was my father's attorney."
Lucien leaned forward.
"What did he do?"
"Nothing."
"He met with your father the night before my brother died."
Saraphina froze.
"What?"
Lucien's voice became quiet.
"Eleven years ago, my younger brother, Matteo, was killed."
She said nothing.
"His death was ruled a robbery."
"And it wasn't?"
"No."
Lucien's jaw tightened.
"He was carrying evidence against someone."
"Who?"
"I thought it was your father."
Saraphina swallowed.
"Did you ever prove it?"
"No."
He paused.
"Then I saw you."
Her heart beat faster.
"What?"
"You look like someone I knew."
"Who?"
"My brother."
Saraphina stared.
"You think I look like him?"
"No."
Lucien's eyes remained fixed on her.
"Your eyes."
The room became very quiet.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know yet."
He stood.
"I need to find out."
That afternoon, Saraphina returned to the Duca estate.
Not because she wanted to.
Because Lucien had discovered something disturbing.
Someone had entered her old bedroom.
Nothing was stolen.
Except an old box of childhood belongings.
Inside that box was one item she had never considered important.
A silver music key.
Lucien believed someone had been searching for it.
They found the box in a car abandoned three blocks away.
Inside was everything except the key.
Saraphina remembered immediately.
"My mother."
Lucien looked at her.
"What about her?"
"She gave me that key when I was little."
"Where is it now?"
Saraphina frowned.
"I don't know."
Then she remembered.
"Viviana took it."
Lucien's expression darkened.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
They went to Viviana's bedroom.
The door was locked.
Lucien didn't bother knocking.
Two seconds later, the lock was gone.
Viviana was standing inside.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Lucien stepped in.
"Give me the key."
"What key?"
"The silver one."
Viviana looked at Saraphina.
Then Lucien.
A slow smile appeared.
"Oh."
She understood.
"You really chose her."
Saraphina's cheeks burned.
Viviana laughed.
"The nobody."
Lucien stepped closer.
"Where is it?"
Viviana folded her arms.
"Why?"
"Because I asked."
She laughed.
"You can't intimidate me."
Lucien leaned closer.
"I don't need to."
He glanced at one of his men.
"Search the room."
Viviana's smile disappeared.
Within minutes, the key was found inside a jewelry box.
Saraphina stared.
"Why did you keep it?"
Viviana finally looked frightened.
"Because Mother told me to."
Saraphina froze.
Their mother had died when Saraphina was six.
"Mother said it belonged to you."
"Why?"
Viviana shook her head.
"I don't know."
Lucien took the key.
Then stopped.
There was writing engraved along the edge.
Saraphina leaned closer.
It read:
For the child who survived.
Lucien looked at her.
And suddenly his entire expression changed.
Because he remembered the night Matteo died.
Matteo had been protecting a witness.
A little girl.
A little girl whose identity had never been discovered.
The witness had survived.
But vanished.
Until now.
Lucien looked at Saraphina.
"No."
She frowned.
"What?"
May you like
He whispered:
"I think I've finally found her."
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