Chapter 2 - THE MAFIA BOSS WHO REFUSED TO OPEN THE DOOR
Roman DeLuca did not move when Preston Witmore began pounding on the entrance.
He simply turned to his security chief.
"Tell him this is private property. If he has a complaint, he can call the police."
The guard nodded.
Genevieve stared.
"You're not going to let him in?"
Roman looked at her.
"Do you want him inside?"
"No."
"Then he stays outside."
The simplicity of his answer nearly made her cry.
For two years, Preston had treated her preferences like inconveniences to be negotiated.
Roman had asked one question and accepted her answer.
But she knew better than to mistake that for safety.
She was inside a mafia club.
With a man whose reputation was built on fear.
And he was holding her engagement ring like evidence from a crime scene.
Roman led her into a private office above the club.
The room had dark walnut walls, a fireplace, and windows overlooking the Chicago River.
A woman in her fifties entered carrying a blanket and a pair of slippers.
"I'm Rosa," she said gently. "Let's get you warm."
Genevieve thanked her.
Rosa helped remove the soaked outer layers of the wedding gown, leaving Genevieve in a silk slip and a borrowed cardigan.
When she returned to the office, Roman was studying the ring beneath a desk lamp.
"How do you know it belonged to your sister?" she asked.
Roman looked up.
"Because I bought it for her."
Genevieve stopped.
"What?"
"It was her twenty-first birthday present."
He turned the ring.
"The crown was our mother's favorite symbol. The three stars represented Elena, our brother Matteo, and me."
Genevieve stared at the engraving.
"Why would Preston have it?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
Roman opened a drawer.
Inside was an old photograph.
A young woman with dark hair smiled at the camera.
On her finger was the same ring.
Genevieve felt cold.
"That's Elena?"
Roman nodded.
"She disappeared after attending a charity auction eleven years ago."
"Did the police investigate?"
"For years."
"What happened?"
Roman looked toward the window.
"They found her car near the river. Her phone was inside. Nothing else."
Genevieve swallowed.
"Preston told me the ring came from his grandmother."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"Then he lied."
Downstairs, the pounding stopped.
A moment later, Roman's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
"Judge Witmore."
Genevieve went rigid.
Roman answered.
"Your Honor."
The judge's voice was loud enough for her to hear.
"My son tells me you've abducted his bride."
Roman looked at Genevieve.
"She entered voluntarily."
"She is emotionally unstable. Her father died recently, and she's not thinking clearly."
Genevieve felt sick.
The same language Preston had used whenever she questioned the prenuptial agreement.
Roman's voice remained calm.
"She seems perfectly capable of making decisions."
"Roman, don't make this difficult."
"Then don't threaten my guest."
The line went silent.
Then Judge Witmore said something that made Roman's expression change.
"Remember what happened to Elena."
Roman stood.
"What did you say?"
The judge disconnected.
Genevieve stared.
Roman slowly lowered the phone.
May you like
Then whispered:
"He knows."
