Chapter 1 - The Poison in the Bottle
The man standing behind Damien Moretti was his own cousin, Vincenzo.
I knew this because Vincenzo was a frequent VIP at Bellavita, a man who tipped in hundred-dollar bills and smiled with eyes as dead as shattered glass.
But tonight, he wasn't smiling.
He had stopped the moment I stabilized the twins.
And when my eyes flicked from the strange, chalky residue on the baby bottle to Vincenzo’s rigid posture, something unspoken passed between us.
He knew that I knew.
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
Damien’s deep, gravelly voice snapped my attention back.
"What is it?" Damien demanded, noticing my hesitation.
His dark eyes tracked my gaze, but I forced myself to look down before he could turn around.
I couldn't accuse a mafia boss's blood relative of attempted murder in a room full of armed men.
Not when I was just a waitress with an eviction notice and a mountain of debt.
"Nothing," I lied, my voice trembling slightly. "The formula... it might be spoiled. Or mixed wrong. Their nervous systems reacted violently to something they ingested."
I handed the bottle directly to Damien, wrapping my fingers briefly over his to ensure he felt the urgency in my grip.
"Keep this," I whispered, so low only he could hear. "Have it tested. By someone outside your circle."
Damien’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch.
He was a man who ruled Chicago’s underworld; he wasn't stupid.
He understood immediately what I was implying.
He took the bottle, sliding it smoothly inside his tailored suit jacket, his expression hardening into a mask of pure, terrifying authority.
He looked at his two baby boys, now breathing softly against his broad chest, their tiny fists clutching his lapels.
Then he looked at me.
"What is your name?" he asked softly.
"Ellie. Ellie Hart."
"You saved my sons tonight, Ellie Hart," Damien said, his voice carrying the weight of a blood oath. "I do not forget things like this."
Before I could process what that meant, Vincenzo stepped forward, clapping a hand on Damien's shoulder.
"Thank God they are safe, brother," Vincenzo said smoothly. "Let me take the boys to the car. We need to get them to our private doctor."
"No," Damien said, stepping out of Vincenzo's reach. "I have them."
I stepped back, melting into the shadows of the dining room as Damien's men surrounded him and escorted him out.
The crisis was over.
But as Vincenzo passed by, he stopped for a fraction of a second.
His cold blue eyes locked onto mine.
May you like
"You're a very observant waitress, Ellie," he murmured. "Be careful. Observant people often see things that get them hurt."
Then he walked away, leaving me standing in the dimly lit restaurant, shivering in my cheap uniform, knowing my life had just irrevocably changed.
