The Boss’s Smallest Shadow: "If I Leave, Will Mommy Get to Stay?"

Lily stood frozen in the hallway as her mother was escorted past, weeping silently into her apron with Enzo walking solemnly behind her.

Lily pressed her back against the cool wainscoting. She didn't understand what "two million dollars" meant. She didn't know what "transit codes" or "the Moretti syndicate" were.

She only understood three things:

1. Her uncle had done something terrible.

2. The tall, powerful man who let her color at his desk was very, very angry.

3. Because of her family, her mother was being thrown out into the cold dark where there was no food and no bed.

Lily waited until the hallway was completely empty. The grandfather clock chimed 1:00 AM.

Inside the study, Alessandro poured himself three fingers of scotch. He drank it in one long swallow, feeling the burn in his throat, but it did nothing to soothe the bitter ache behind his ribs.

He told himself he had done the right thing. He was the head of the Romano family. He could not harbor the sister of a traitor. If he softened now, his men would see it. The Morettis would smell blood.

He turned toward the fire, staring into the dying embers.

A tiny scrape broke the silence.

Alessandro spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for the holster at his hip.

Lily stood just inside the doorway.

Her chestnut curls were wild from sleep. Her little pink slippers were worn at the toes. She was holding Poppy tightly with both hands, clutching the rabbit against her ribs like a shield. Her lower lip was trembling, but she was trying desperately not to cry because she remembered that big men didn't like crying.

Alessandro’s hand fell from his weapon. His chest tightened painfully.

"Lily," he said, trying to make his voice rough, trying to maintain the wall he had built over nineteen years. "What are you doing out of bed? Go back to your mother."

She didn't move. She took two tiny steps forward onto the Persian rug.

"Mister Boss?" she asked, her voice small and brittle like dry autumn leaves.

"Go back to your room, Lily."

She stopped right in front of his desk, looking up at him with eyes that held the crushing, innocent weight of the entire world.

"Uncle Jason took the bad things," she said.

Alessandro froze. "You were listening."

"Mama didn't take them," Lily whispered. Big, round tears welled up in her eyes and finally spilled over her cheeks, catching the orange light of the fire. "Mama scrubs the floor until her hands are red. She cries at night because her feet hurt, but she always kisses me goodnight."

Alessandro stood motionless, unable to speak.

Lily looked down at Poppy, squeezed the one-eared toy, and then looked back up into the face of the most feared man in the city.