Chapter 1 - The Father Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Helena D’Angelo had Sophie by the hair.
The three-year-old’s torn pale pink dress dragged across the marble ballroom floor as she cried in front of hundreds of guests.
“Trash like you doesn't belong in this family.”
No one moved.
Not because they approved.
Because Helena D’Angelo had spent thirty years making powerful people afraid to challenge her.
Then the ballroom doors flew open.
Roman D’Angelo stepped inside.
The room went silent.
Nora froze beside one of the banquet tables.
Her wineglass slipped from her hand.
It shattered.
Roman saw his daughter.
Dirty face.
Torn dress.
Tears.
Helena’s hand still tangled in her hair.
He crossed the ballroom before anyone could stop him.
One powerful strike sent Helena sprawling across the marble.
Sophie stared at Roman as if she were looking at a ghost.
“Dad?... She told me you were dead.”
Roman stopped breathing.
He lifted Sophie immediately and held her against his chest.
She clung to him.
Nora rushed forward.
Her eyes were already wet.
“She told us your payments had stopped three years ago.”
Roman slowly looked toward his mother.
Three years.
He handed Sophie carefully to Nora.
Then walked toward Helena.
Helena tried to rise.
Roman knocked her back down with a sharp slap.
“I sent fifty thousand every month.”
Helena’s face changed.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Roman crouched in front of her.
“Tell me where that money went.”
Nobody in the ballroom spoke.
Roman had been sending $50,000 every month to support Nora and Sophie.
Thirty-six months.
$1.8 million.
Nora had received almost none of it.
Instead, she and Sophie had spent three years moving between cheap apartments, borrowing from friends, and eventually taking service work wherever Nora could find it.
That was why Sophie’s dress was torn.
That was why Nora had entered the gala through the staff entrance.
Helena had hired Nora as temporary banquet help without telling her whose event it was.
She wanted Nora humiliated.
She wanted Sophie seen as an unwanted child trespassing among D’Angelo guests.
But Helena had made one mistake.
Roman was not supposed to be at the gala.
His private jet had supposedly been delayed until morning.
Instead, he landed early.
Now he was standing in the ballroom asking about money only two people should have known existed.
Helena looked past him.
Toward the head table.
Roman followed her eyes.
One chair was empty.
The place card read:
VINCENT MARLOWE.
Roman knew the name immediately.
His family’s financial controller.
May you like
And the man who had personally confirmed every monthly transfer.
Vincent was suddenly gone.
