Chapter 4 - House of Wolves
Alessandro did not take me to a hotel.
He took me to a fortress pretending to be a home.
The Vitale estate sat behind iron gates on twelve wooded acres north of the city.
Security cameras watched every approach.
Men with earpieces stood beneath stone arches.
The mansion itself was all pale limestone, dark windows, and old money.
I had never felt poorer in my life.
Leo had fallen asleep again.
Alessandro carried him upstairs.
A woman named Rosa met me in the foyer.
She was in her sixties, silver-haired, elegant, and completely unimpressed by Alessandro’s reputation.
“You brought an injured woman into my house at midnight without calling.”
“I am calling now.”
“You are standing in front of me.”
“More efficient.”
She hit him lightly on the arm with a dish towel.
I stared.
Alessandro Vitale allowed it.
More importantly, he looked used to it.
Rosa turned to me.
“You are Mara.”
“Yes.”
“Come.”
She guided me toward a guest room.
“Do not let him intimidate you.”
From behind us, Alessandro said, “I can hear you.”
“That was the intention.”
For the first time since the glass fell, I almost felt safe.
Almost.
The room Rosa gave me was larger than my entire apartment.
There was a fireplace.
A balcony.
A bathtub that looked big enough to drown in luxury.
I stood awkwardly near the bed.
“This is too much.”
Rosa shook her head.
“You kept Leo alive.”
“There is no too much tonight.”
She helped me change into a soft cotton shirt that buttoned in the front.
Then she stopped.
Her eyes landed on the thin gold chain around my neck.
More specifically, on the small empty clasp hanging from it.
“What was there?”
“My grandmother’s ring.”
I touched the chain automatically.
“I used to wear it around my neck.”
“Used to?”
“My ex stole it.”
Rosa’s expression tightened.
“What kind of ring?”
“Gold.”
“Dark green stone.”
“Old-fashioned setting.”
She went strangely still.
“Emerald?”
“I think so.”
“Did it have markings inside?”
My pulse slowed.
“Yes.”
“A tiny bird.”
Rosa sat down.
Not gracefully.
Like her legs had stopped cooperating.
“What?”
She stared at me.
“Your grandmother’s name.”
“Sofia Hale.”
Rosa’s face drained of color.
I took a step toward her.
“You knew her.”
It wasn’t a question.
Before she could answer, Alessandro appeared in the doorway.
He looked from me to Rosa.
“What happened?”
Rosa whispered something in Italian.
Alessandro went rigid.
His eyes moved to the chain.
Then to me.
“Describe the ring.”
I did.
Every detail I could remember.
The green stone.
The tiny bird.
The unusual hinge beneath the setting.
The initials inside.
S.H.
Alessandro crossed the room slowly.
“My mother owned a ring exactly like that.”
I stared at him.
“Your mother?”
“She gave it to someone twenty-eight years ago.”
“Who?”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“A woman named Sofia.”
My grandmother’s photograph flashed through my mind.
Gentle face.
Gray curls.
Hands that always smelled like lavender soap.
The woman who taught me to stretch soup for three days and never trust a man who borrowed money before payday.
“What are you saying?”
Alessandro’s jaw tightened.
“That your grandmother was not simply a retired seamstress from Queens.”
Rosa closed her eyes.
May you like
Alessandro finished quietly.
“She worked for my family.”
