Chapter 2 - The Mark of the Exiled
The heavy oak doors of the grand hall slammed shut, sealing us inside with twelve men whose names made the police look the other way.
Alessandro didn’t draw a weapon. He didn’t need to. He simply held my daughter’s blue rabbit by the ear, his thumb brushing the tiny black stitch. It looked like a broken crown.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Alessandro repeated, his voice dropping an octave. “I will ask you once more. Where did this come from?”
I pulled Emma behind my legs, shielding her from the dozen calculating stares. My heart hammered against my ribs. “My husband bought it for her. Right before he died in the hit-and-run.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room.
Don Ricci, the elderly boss who had defended me moments ago, leaned forward. His knuckles were white gripping his cane. “A hit-and-run. In Milan?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Alessandro’s dark eyes flicked from the rabbit to my face. The vulnerability I had seen moments ago was gone, replaced by a terrifying, cold clarity. “What was your husband’s name?”
“Thomas,” I said, my voice trembling. “Thomas Bennett.”
Vivian, still standing near the spilled juice, let out a harsh, nervous laugh. “This is ridiculous, Alessandro. She’s lying. She probably stole that toy—”
“Vivian, leave,” Alessandro commanded without looking at her.
“But darling—”
“Get out,” he roared, the sheer force of his voice rattling the crystal glasses on the tables.
Vivian flinched, her face flushing with humiliated rage. She shot me a look of pure venom before turning on her designer heels and storming out of the room.
Alessandro crouched back down, putting himself at eye level with Emma, who was peeking out from behind my apron. He gently handed the rabbit back to her. “Take good care of Mr. Bunny, little one.”
He stood up and faced the twelve families. “Meeting adjourned. My men will escort you out.”
“Moretti, you know what that symbol means,” a younger boss from the back protested, standing up. “If the Black Crown is back in Milan—”
“I said, adjourned,” Alessandro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Within minutes, the sprawling hall was empty, save for Alessandro, myself, and Emma. He turned to me, running a hand through his dark hair. The menacing aura of the mafia boss faded, leaving a deeply exhausted man.
“Sarah,” he said softly, using my first name for the very first time. “Your husband’s name wasn’t Thomas Bennett. And he wasn’t killed in a random hit-and-run.”
He walked over to a heavy mahogany desk and unlocked the bottom drawer. He pulled out a worn, silver pocket watch. He held it out to me.
My breath caught in my throat. I recognized the intricate engraving of a wolf on the silver casing. I had given it to Thomas on our wedding day.
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“How do you have this?” I asked, my fingers brushing the cold metal.
“Because Thomas gave it to me,” Alessandro said quietly. “Right before he sacrificed his life to save mine.”
