Chapter 5 - The Velvet Rope
My breath caught in my throat.
The photograph trembled between my fingers. The woman in the picture was unmistakable: Rebecca, her honey-blonde hair falling over the shoulder of an emerald-green silk dress, leaning into Nico Romano’s side with the familiarity of a long-time partner.
Nico appeared in the doorway, his tall frame blocking the corridor light. His eyes immediately fell on the torn photograph in my hand.
For the first time since I had seen him walk into that church, his composure cracked. A flicker of raw tension tightened the skin around his scar.
Before either of us could speak, Mia made a tiny, choked sound.
I set the photograph face-down on the carpet, immediately redirecting every ounce of my attention back to the child. She was still trembling, her knees pulled tight to her chin, her small fingers tangled in her dark hair.
“Mia,” I whispered, keeping my body low and non-threatening. “You are safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you. Look at me, sweetheart. Just breathe with me. In like a flower...” I took a slow, exaggerated breath through my nose. “...and blow out the candle.” I exhaled gently through rounded lips.
Mia’s eyelids fluttered open. Her dark eyes, swollen from unshed tears, fixed on my mouth.
I repeated the motion. “In like a flower. Out like the candle.”
She didn't blow, but her ragged gasps slowed. After four long cycles, she lowered her hands from her ears. Her gaze dropped to my wrist, where Daniel’s cruel grip had left dark purple fingerprints.
Slowly, hesitantly, Mia reached out one small, trembling hand. Her fingertips, cold as winter rain, hovered just above the bruises on my skin. She didn't touch them; she merely hovered there, acknowledging the pain.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “It looks worse than it feels. We’re both going to heal.”
Mia pulled her hand back, but she didn't retreat into the corner. Instead, she reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out the bloodstained Rolex. She laid it carefully on the carpet between us, pushing it three inches toward me.
It was an offering. An exchange of trust.
“Thank you,” I whispered, not moving to pick it up, respecting the boundary. “I’ll watch over it for a little while if you want to rest.”
Mia crawled out from behind the armoire, curled up on the small braided rug near her bed, and closed her eyes, utterly exhausted from the panic attack.
I waited five full minutes until her breathing settled into the rhythmic cadence of deep sleep. Only then did I stand up, pick up the torn garden-party photograph, and walk out into the hallway, pulling the door shut until only a crack remained.
Nico was waiting by the banister, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Explain this,” I demanded in a harsh whisper, thrusting the photograph against his chest. “You told me Rebecca was Daniel’s shield because her father is a precinct captain. You didn't tell me she was your ex-lover.”
Nico took the photograph, his eyes darkening as he looked at the smiling faces.
“She was never my lover,” Nico said, his voice flat and steady. “She was Matteo’s fiancée before Mia was born.”
The floor felt unstable beneath my feet. “What?”
“Six years ago, Matteo was engaged to Rebecca,” Nico explained, leaning his back against the mahogany railing. “She wanted the Romano name, the status, the wealth. But when Matteo met Elena—Mia’s mother, an immigrant violinist who worked in the conservatory downtown—he broke the engagement immediately. Elena became his world. Mia was born a year later.”
“And Rebecca?”
“Rebecca never forgave him,” Nico said, turning the photo over. “She spent years looking for a way back into our family’s orbit. When Elena died of leukemia two years ago, Rebecca tried to step back into Matteo’s life. Matteo threw her out of his office. So what did Rebecca do? She attached herself to Daniel Ward—Matteo’s logistics dispatcher.”
The horrifying machinery of their scheme began to reveal itself.
“Rebecca didn't just sleep with Daniel because she wanted him,” I realized aloud, bile rising in my throat. “She used Daniel to get close to Matteo’s business.”
“Daniel was weak, greedy, and easily manipulated,” Nico said coldly. “Rebecca fed his ego, fueled his gambling habits, and convinced him that skimming off Matteo’s cargo was risk-free. When Matteo caught Daniel, Rebecca told Daniel the only way to avoid prison—or worse—was to run to Salvatore. Salvatore offered them a way out: help arrange an 'accident' for Matteo’s car, and Salvatore would ensure they were paid and protected.”
“Then why did Daniel stay with me?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes. “Why keep up the charade of an engagement for two years?”
“Because of your clean background,” Nico said softly, looking directly into my eyes. “Daniel needed a cover. An ordinary, saintly schoolteacher fiancée makes a man look respectable. When the noose tightened this morning, Daniel planned to marry you, cash out your co-signed credit to flee the country, and leave you behind to face the police when the shipping fraud unraveled.”
I gripped the banister to keep my balance. Every single person in my life—my fiancé, my best friend—had been constructing a prison around me while smiling to my face.
“And what about you, Nico?” I asked, searching his scar-lined face. “Where do you fit in this web? If you knew all of this, why didn't you go to the police?”
“In our world, the police are an auction house,” Nico said bitterly. “Rebecca’s father controls the 114th precinct. Salvatore controls three judges in the appellate division. If I went to the police with suspicions and no hard evidence, Salvatore would have secured emergency custody of Mia within twenty-four hours. My only move was to buy Daniel’s debt, isolate you from Rebecca’s circle, and secure the legal high ground before Salvatore could strike.”
“And Mia?” I asked. “What did she see the night Matteo died?”
Nico looked down at the closed bedroom door, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle twitched.
“Matteo didn't die alone in that car,” Nico whispered, the admission sounding like it tore through his chest. “Mia was in the backseat.”
A gasp tore from my throat.
“Salvatore’s men ran the car off the road,” Nico continued, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. “Matteo survived the initial impact. He managed to pull Mia from the wreckage and hid her in the drainage culvert beneath the overpass. When the hitters came back to finish the job... Mia watched them do it from ten feet away in the dark.”
Horror settled over me like a suffocating shroud. That was why she guarded the watch. That was why she stayed silent.
“She didn't just lose her father,” I whispered. “She watched him murdered. And she knows who did it.”
“Yes,” Nico said grimly. “And that is why Salvatore came here today. He didn't come to boast about Daniel. He came to see if the little girl had started talking yet.”
Before I could answer, Rosa came bustling up the stairs, her face pale, holding a silver tray with an unopened white envelope.
“Mr. Romano,” Rosa said, out of breath. “A courier just delivered this at the front gate. He said it was an urgent summons from the Queens County Surrogate’s Court.”
Nico tore open the envelope and scanned the contents. His face turned to stone.
May you like
“What is it?” I asked.
“Salvatore filed an emergency petition,” Nico said, crumpling the legal paper in his fist. “The hearing isn't next Friday anymore. The judge moved it to tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. If Mia does not appear in chambers and demonstrate a viable, loving attachment to us, Salvatore gets temporary custody by noon.”
