Chapter 1 - THE FORBIDDEN ROOM
Nobody entered Evelyn Kane’s bedroom anymore.
Not the maids.
Not the security staff.
Not Adrian’s lawyers.
Not even Adrian most days.
Three years had passed since Evelyn died, yet the room remained almost exactly as she had left it.
Her ivory hairbrush still rested on the dressing table.
Three books remained stacked beside the window.
A porcelain cup sat behind glass because Adrian could not bring himself to throw it away.
The curtains were replaced when dust damaged the originals, but everything else remained.
Untouched.
Preserved.
Dead.
That was how Adrian preferred it.
At thirty-eight, Adrian Kane was feared by men who had spent their whole lives learning not to show fear.
He owned legitimate property companies, transportation firms, restaurants, security businesses, and enough hidden interests that even his attorneys did not always know where one ended and another began.
His body looked built for intimidation.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dense muscle beneath a black open-collar dress shirt.
Tattoos climbed from both hands across his forearms, neck, upper chest, and disappeared beneath the fabric across his back.
A silver pendant rested against his chest.
His wedding ring remained on his hand.
Three years after the funeral.
Nobody mentioned it.
Tonight Adrian sat on the edge of the bed inside the forbidden room.
He was not crying.
Adrian rarely cried where anyone could see.
Instead he stared at the old carpet and listened to the mansion breathe around him.
Rain touched the windows.
A clock ticked somewhere in the hall.
Then something white shot through the partly open doors.
Adrian’s head snapped up.
A fluffy white cat raced across the carpet.
“What the hell—”
Tiny footsteps followed.
A little girl appeared.
Three years old.
Light brown curls bouncing around a large purple bow.
Her ornate purple dress seemed far too elaborate for a staff child wandering through service corridors.
Bunny appliques decorated the fabric.
A stuffed expression of pure delight filled her face as she pointed at the fleeing cat.
“Kitty!”
Adrian stared.
The child stopped only when she noticed him.
For perhaps two seconds, neither moved.
Then Adrian stood.
“Who let a child into this room?”
His voice would have frightened most adults.
The little girl simply blinked.
The cat disappeared beneath a chair.
She smiled.
“Hi.”
Adrian looked toward the hallway.
No guard.
No maid.
No frantic parent.
“How did you get here?”
She pointed behind herself.
“Door.”
Adrian almost closed his eyes.
Apparently three-year-olds preferred literal answers.
“You cannot be in here.”
She walked toward him.
Adrian frowned.
“Stop.”
She did not.
He had ordered armed men to stop with less resistance.
The girl reached the bed.
Then, before Adrian understood what she intended, she lifted both arms.
“Up.”
“No.”
“Up.”
“No.”
She climbed anyway.
One knee against the mattress.
A small hand on his thigh.
Adrian automatically caught her before she fell.
The little girl used the opportunity to climb directly onto his lap.
Adrian Kane froze.
No one in the mansion would have believed the sight.
A mafia boss covered in tattoos, rigid with shock, while a child in a purple bunny dress settled comfortably against him as though he were an uncle she had known for years.
She smelled faintly of strawberry shampoo.
“Your people are going to die,” Adrian muttered.
The girl looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She grabbed the silver oval object hanging around her neck.
“Look at my pretty necklace, mister!”
Adrian’s eyes lowered.
Then everything inside him stopped.
Silver.
Oval.
Engraved border.
A tiny scratch along the lower left edge.
Adrian knew that scratch.
He had caused it accidentally on a marble bathroom counter during his honeymoon.
He remembered Evelyn laughing while he apologized.
He remembered fastening that same chain around her neck the night of their second anniversary.
He remembered touching it at her throat the morning she left for the trip from which she never returned.
Adrian’s hand rose slowly.
The little girl smiled.
“Pretty.”
His fingers stopped inches away.
“Where did you get this?”
“My mommy.”
His face lost color.
“What is your name?”
“Nora.”
“Nora what?”
She was distracted by the cat emerging beneath the chair.
“Kitty.”
Adrian gently caught the locket before she could jump down.
His fingers trembled.
The child noticed.
“You shaky.”
“I know.”
“Scared?”
Adrian looked at her.
Nobody asked Adrian Kane whether he was scared.
“Yes.”
Nora seemed satisfied by the honesty.
She patted his hand.
“It okay.”
That almost broke something in him.
He looked again at the locket.
Could be a duplicate.
Could have been sold.
Stolen.
Copied.
Recovered after Evelyn’s death and passed through hands Adrian never knew.
Dozens of explanations existed.
He forced himself not to choose one.
“Nora.”
“Yes?”
“May I open this?”
She thought very seriously.
Then nodded.
Adrian pressed his thumbnail against the clasp.
It resisted.
Exactly as Evelyn’s always had.
His pulse accelerated.
The latch clicked.
Inside was something small and pale.
A photograph.
Adrian stared.
He could not yet make out the details because Nora shifted on his lap.
Then footsteps thundered outside.
Fast.
Panicked.
A woman shouted:
“Nora!”
The child brightened.
“Mommy.”
The oak doors flew open.
A young maid rushed inside.
Twenty-eight.
Dark hair pinned beneath a white headband.
Black maid uniform.
White apron.
Face drained of all color.
She stopped when she saw Adrian.
Then Nora.
Then the open locket between Adrian’s tattooed fingers.
Everything in her expression collapsed.
“Nora…”
Adrian slowly stood, keeping one arm securely around the child.
The maid took one step backward.
Adrian recognized her.
Elena Castillo.
Household staff.
Employed eight months.
Quiet.
Reliable.
Almost invisible.
Until now.
Adrian looked from Elena to the silver locket.
He did not accuse.
Not yet.
He did not decide what the photograph meant.
Not yet.
He only knew one thing.
May you like
The object hanging around a maid’s daughter’s neck had once belonged to the woman he buried three years ago.
And Elena Castillo looked terrified that he had finally noticed.
