Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN AT THE TABLE
“Bring everyone to the ballroom,” Damiano said again.
His fingers were still wrapped around Emma's small hand.
Isabella stared at him as if she had forgotten how to breathe.
“You cannot do this,” she whispered.
Damiano looked at her.
“I already did.”
The ballroom doors opened.
Five men entered one after another, surrounded by security.
Vincent Russo came first, broad-shouldered and silver-haired, with the calm expression of a man who had survived too many wars to be impressed by another one.
Behind him came Anthony Bellini, Marcus DeLuca, Salvatore Greco, and Thomas Carbone.
They were not friends.
That was why tonight mattered.
For years, their families had fought over territory, shipping routes, construction contracts, and old grudges that had outlived the men who created them.
Tonight was supposed to end it.
Instead, Damiano stood at the head of the ballroom with an explosive device sitting inside a steel evidence case beside him.
No one sat down.
“What happened?” Vincent asked.
Damiano looked at each man.
“Someone planted this beneath my desk.”
Silence spread through the room.
Anthony's eyes narrowed.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“And you found it?”
Damiano glanced toward Emma.
“She did.”
Every man looked at the little girl.
Emma immediately moved closer to Sophia.
Vincent's expression softened.
“Then perhaps we're alive because of the smallest person in this house.”
Emma looked at him seriously.
“I just saw the light.”
A few men exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Damiano turned toward his security chief.
“Lock every entrance.”
“Already done.”
“Search every guest.”
“They're being searched now.”
Isabella stepped forward.
“This is insane.”
Damiano's eyes moved toward her.
“You're right.”
She looked relieved for half a second.
Then he continued.
“It is insane that someone believed they could put a bomb under my desk and walk into this room wearing diamonds.”
The room changed.
Isabella's face tightened.
“You're accusing me?”
“I haven't accused anyone.”
“You brought me into this room like a criminal.”
“No.”
Damiano's voice remained controlled.
“I brought you into the room because Emma identified you.”
Sophia felt Emma's hand tremble.
She bent down.
“Are you scared?”
Emma nodded.
“Can we go home?”
Before Sophia could answer, Damiano heard her.
His expression softened immediately.
“You will.”
He crouched in front of Emma.
“But first I need to know one thing.”
Emma hugged her rag doll.
“What?”
“The man you saw. Did he have anything with him?”
Emma thought.
“A watch.”
“What kind?”
She looked at Sophia.
Then at Damiano.
“Brown.”
Damiano froze.
“Brown leather strap?”
Emma nodded.
“Yes.”
Vincent suddenly stepped closer.
“Damiano.”
Damiano didn't look at him.
Vincent's voice lowered.
“I know that watch.”
Everyone turned.
“Whose?” Damiano asked.
Vincent stared toward the doorway.
“Your father's.”
The words hit the room like a gunshot.
Sophia looked at Damiano.
He had gone completely still.
“My father died eighteen years ago,” he said.
Vincent shook his head.
“I know.”
“Then why would you recognize his watch?”
Vincent's eyes remained fixed on him.
“Because I was there the night he gave it away.”
Damiano's jaw tightened.
“To whom?”
Vincent didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at Isabella.
Isabella's face had lost all color.
Damiano noticed.
“So you know something.”
“No,” Isabella said quickly.
But her voice had changed.
Emma suddenly tugged Sophia's dress.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
Emma pointed toward Isabella's wrist.
“She has the same little mark.”
Sophia looked.
A tiny crescent-shaped scar was visible beneath Isabella's bracelet.
Damiano saw it too.
His eyes moved to the bracelet.
“Take it off.”
Isabella stepped back.
“No.”
“Isabella.”
“No.”
For the first time, fear appeared in her eyes.
Not fear of Damiano.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Vincent whispered, “That bracelet belonged to Elena.”
Damiano's head snapped toward him.
“My mother?”
Vincent nodded.
Sophia felt a chill.
Damiano's mother had been dead for nearly twenty years.
Everyone in New York knew the story.
She had disappeared after a family dispute and was later found dead outside the city.
At least, that was what Sophia had always heard.
Damiano looked at Isabella.
“Where did you get my mother's bracelet?”
Isabella swallowed.
“I can't tell you.”
“Then you're coming with me.”
Damiano started toward her.
Suddenly, every light in the ballroom went out.
Women screamed.
Chairs scraped against the floor.
Security shouted.
Sophia pulled Emma against her chest.
Then came a sharp metallic click from somewhere near the table.
Damiano shouted.
“DOWN!”
A gunshot cracked through the darkness.
Then another.
When the emergency lights came on, one of the windows was shattered.
Vincent was on the floor.
Anthony had a bleeding shoulder.
And Isabella was gone.
Damiano looked toward the open service door.
Then he saw something lying beneath the table.
A small brown leather watch.
The same kind Emma had described.
Damiano picked it up.
The back had been scratched badly.
But beneath the scratches were three engraved letters.
E.M.
His mother's initials.
He turned toward Sophia.
“Why would my father's watch carry my mother's initials?”
Sophia didn't answer.
Because Emma had just begun crying.
She was staring at the ballroom wall.
Someone had written three words there in black marker.
ASK YOUR MOTHER.
May you like
And Sophia suddenly realized the message wasn't meant for Damiano.
It was meant for her.
