THE MAFIA’S HEIR AND THE SISTER’S SECRET

The silence in the restaurant was absolute. The clinking of silverware had stopped. The quiet jazz playing from the overhead speakers suddenly sounded too loud.

Every man at Table Twelve was staring at me, but I only felt Luca Moretti’s eyes. They were dark, dangerous, and entirely focused on the small silver sparrow resting against my collarbone.

"I asked you a question," Luca said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble. "Would you hold him?"

My hands were shaking. I wiped them on my apron, terrified that if I reached out, the two massive bodyguards flanking the table would draw weapons. But Leo was still crying, a desperate, breathless sound that broke my heart.

I took a step forward. "Okay."

Luca slowly lifted the baby. The moment Leo’s small, warm weight settled against my chest, his crying stopped completely. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, buried his face into my neck, and instantly wrapped his tiny fist around my silver sparrow necklace.

A collective breath seemed to release from the table, but Luca remained rigid.

"Where did you get that necklace?" Luca asked.

I swallowed hard, bouncing Leo gently out of instinct. "It’s mine."

"I didn't ask whose it was," Luca said, standing up. He towered over me, his presence suffocating. "I asked where you got it."

My manager, Greg, rushed over, his face pale and sweating. "Mr. Moretti, I am so sorry if Avery has offended you. She’s new—"

"Walk away," the older man beside Luca snapped. Greg vanished instantly.

I held Leo tighter. The baby smelled like expensive baby powder and something faint, sweet, and hauntingly familiar. Vanilla and lavender.

"My sister gave it to me," I said, lifting my chin, refusing to let him intimidate me into a lie. "Before she died."

Luca’s jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. "Your sister."

"Yes. Maya."

The older man beside Luca let out a sharp, ragged breath. He leaned heavily against the edge of the mahogany table.

"Maya died three years ago," I continued, the old grief tightening my throat. "In a car accident on I-95. She gave me this sparrow for my eighteenth birthday. It has a chipped wing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to work—"

"Maya didn’t die three years ago," Luca said.

The room seemed to tilt. "What?"

"She died eleven months ago," Luca said, his voice devoid of all emotion, though his eyes burned with a chaotic intensity. "Giving birth to him."

He pointed at the baby in my arms.

My heart completely stopped. I looked down at the ten-month-old boy resting against my chest. The dark hair was Luca’s. But the shape of the nose... the curve of his little cheeks.

I couldn't breathe. "No. No, that’s impossible. A police officer came to my apartment. He handed me her wallet. He said her car went over the embankment into the river."

"There was a car accident," the older man said quietly. "But she wasn’t in the car. It was a setup."

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling as the reality of Leo’s weight in my arms began to sink in. This was Maya’s baby. My nephew.

"My name is Silas," the older man said. He was impeccably dressed, with silver hair and cold, calculating eyes. "I am Luca’s uncle. And we have been looking for you for a very long time, Avery."

I stepped back, clutching Leo protectively. "Why?"

Luca didn't answer. Instead, he reached inside his tailored suit jacket. My breath hitched, expecting a weapon.

Instead, he pulled out a heavily worn silver locket on a broken chain. He held it out to me.

My stomach plummeted. It was a silver sparrow. An exact, perfect match to mine, right down to the chipped wing. Maya had bought them as a pair at a flea market when we were teenagers.

But Luca’s sparrow was completely deformed in the center.

"She was wearing this the night she died," Luca whispered, his voice cracking for the first time. "The night someone broke into the safehouse and murdered her."

I stared at the deformed metal. It wasn't just crushed.