a P

found me in a quiet alcove, her fac

om where Leo was being paraded around. "Don Vittorio... your father... he comes eve

r world. He always put me off. "That's not for you, Anya. You have a different role." My role was to be a beauti

She knitted his first blanket. Stitched the Marino falcon crest

of my old life. I wasn't just replaced; I was an afterth

nd a shadowed corner on the veranda, the glass door cracked just enough to hear the

tient. "Leo is getting older. He asks questions. When are you g

rid of me. The words w

t. The families are still fragile." He stroked her arm. "Leo's birthday party. In five days. W

th sentence. They were going to dispose of me, the

utton, my thumb shaking. I needed proof. More than just photos. I needed their o

away from the veranda and made my wa

orner of the house, a

nt

er of annoyance in his eyes at the sight of a servant lingering

s intuition, the predator's sense for anything out of place in his

he said, his voice danger

ing against my ribs. I bowed my

tween us. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne,

me," he c

dn't

but to my face. His fingers brus

colder this time, his knuckles grazing my

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