Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
The photograph burned against Sophia’s palm.
She stared at the image of herself as an eight-year-old girl, her small, terrified fingers wrapped tightly around the hand of a teenage Adrian. In the background, the flames of the Cross estate licked the night sky.
And standing right beside them, looking away from the fire, was her father.
“You told me my father died a hero,” Sophia whispered, her voice barely carrying over the heavy silence of the ballroom.
Adrian’s dark eyes locked onto hers. The cold, ruthless Mafia Boss was gone, replaced by a man carrying a twenty-year-old ghost. “He did, Sophia. But not for the side you think.”
The pregnant woman in the black dress—Elena—stepped forward, her confidence suddenly faltering. “That’s a fake. Marcus said you’d try to lie your way out of this.”
“Marcus?” Adrian’s voice turned to ice. He didn’t look at Elena. He looked at the four men in dark suits who had just interrupted the wedding.
The lead man, a towering enforcer with a scar cutting through his eyebrow, pulled a suppressed pistol from his jacket. The wedding guests screamed. Chaos erupted.
“Nobody moves!” the enforcer roared.
Adrian stepped smoothly in front of Sophia, shielding her entirely. He didn’t reach for a gun. He just stared the man down.
“You’re out of your jurisdiction, Vance,” Adrian said calmly.
“Marcus sends his regards,” Vance sneered. He pointed the gun at the pregnant woman. “And he said to tie up loose ends.”
Elena gasped, instinctively covering her stomach. “No! Marcus promised me!”
Sophia’s mind raced. The woman wasn’t Adrian’s lover. She was Marcus’s pawn.
Before Vance could pull the trigger, Adrian kicked a heavy silver ice bucket directly into the enforcer’s knees. At the exact same second, Adrian’s security team swarmed the room. Gunfire shattered the crystal chandeliers. Raindrops of glass rained down on the wedding cake.
Adrian grabbed Sophia’s hand—the exact same way he had in the photograph twenty years ago.
“Move!” he yelled.
He dragged her toward the kitchen doors. To Sophia’s shock, he grabbed Elena by the arm, dragging the pregnant woman with them.
“Let me go!” Elena screamed.
“If I leave you here, you’re dead,” Adrian growled, shoving them both through the swinging doors.
They ran through the maze of stainless steel prep stations, bursting out into the cold night air of the loading dock. A black armored SUV was already waiting, the engine roaring.
Adrian shoved the women into the backseat and climbed in beside them. “Drive,” he ordered his man.
The SUV tore out of the alley just as Vance burst through the kitchen doors, firing blindly.
Inside the dark cabin, the only sound was their ragged breathing.
Sophia looked at the man she had married just an hour ago. “Who was my father really working for, Adrian?”
Adrian reached into his jacket and pulled out a tarnished silver rosary.
May you like
Sophia’s breath caught. It was the rosary her father used to pray with every night. The one she thought was buried with him.
“Your father wasn’t the man who ordered the hit on my family,” Adrian said quietly, dropping the rosary into her lap. “He was the man who was supposed to execute it.”
