Chapter 2 - THE BUTTON|
Don Moretti descended the stairs without making a sound. The silence in the foyer tightened until the air felt heavy enough to choke on.
Isabella straightened her spine, her knuckles turning white around her teacup. "Silas," she began, her tone instantly shifting from screeching rage to performative innocence. "This maid’s child was wandering outside my dressing room. She shouldn't be on this floor—"
"Quiet," Silas Moretti said softly.
He didn't yell. He never needed to. His voice carried the weight of thirty years of undisputed rule over the East Coast syndicate.
He stopped three steps from the bottom, looking down at the maid kneeling on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, shielding her daughter with her trembling body.
"Stand up, Rosa," Silas commanded gently.
Rosa swallowed, her knees trembling as she stood, pulling Lily against her apron. "Don Moretti... I am so sorry. I turned my back for two seconds to fetch the clean linens—"
"I didn't ask for an apology," Silas interrupted.
He crouched down until his dark, piercing eyes were level with the three-year-old. He looked at her duck socks, then at her steady brown eyes. There was no fear in her face. Most grown men in Chicago trembled when Silas entered a room, yet this little girl simply stared back at him with quiet curiosity.
"What is in your hand, little one?" Silas asked.
Lily opened her tiny fist. Resting in her palm was a heavy, antique gold button stamped with a crest—a roaring lion crowned by three stars.
Silas froze.
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His breath hitched slightly in his throat. That button didn't belong to Isabella. It hadn't come from any jacket sold in a department store.
It was the lost crest of the Moretti bloodline—a seal that belonged to his eldest son, who had vanished six years ago during the war with the Genovese family.
