Chapter 1 - The Mirror's Ghost
I stared at the photograph behind the bar while the baby in my arms held onto my thumb like it was a lifeline.
The air in the restaurant had turned to ice.
Dante Russo, the man whose name was a whispered curse in this city, watched my face lose all its color.
"I asked if you recognize her," he repeated.
His voice was a low hum that vibrated right through the soles of my cheap work shoes.
I forced my eyes away from the dead woman in the picture and looked down at the child.
The baby, Leo, was staring at me with those wide, solemn eyes, perfectly content against my chest.
"No," I lied, my voice shaking so badly I barely recognized it.
"I have never seen that picture before in my life."
Dante stood up from his chair.
The movement was slow, fluid, and terrifyingly graceful for a man of his size.
Every bodyguard in the room subtly shifted their weight, their hands resting casually near the insides of their jackets.
My manager had retreated so far into the shadows near the kitchen doors that he practically blended into the wallpaper.
Dante stepped into my personal space, bringing with him that overwhelming scent of cedar, smoke, and gunpowder.
He reached out, his knuckles brushing against my apron as he traced the fabric.
"You are lying to me, Mara," he whispered.
"People who lie to me do not usually get to speak again."
I swallowed hard, tasting pure fear in the back of my throat.
"I swear to you, I am just a waitress."
"Then why does my son think you are his mother?"
The question hung in the air between us like an executioner's blade.
I looked at the dragon tattooed across his hand, remembering my own mother's frantic warnings.
"Babies are unpredictable," I managed to say, trying to hand the boy back.
Leo immediately let out a piercing, heartbroken wail, his tiny fingers digging into my collarbone.
Dante did not take him.
Instead, he looked at my trembling hands and the fierce, protective way the child clung to me.
"You are coming with us," Dante announced to the silent room.
Panic flared in my chest.
"I can't just leave, I have a shift, I have bills, I have a life here!"
Dante turned his back to me, signaling his men with a flick of his wrist.
May you like
"Your shift is over, Mara."
"Your old life ended the moment my son chose you."
