Chapter 2 - The Proposal No Woman Expected
“Say it again,” Dominic said.
Elena’s eyes fluttered.
Grace leaned toward her.
“You don’t have to.”
But Elena clutched Grace’s wrist.
“Matteo.”
Dominic stepped back.
The room changed.
Grace had seen him angry.
She had seen him suspicious.
This was different.
This was the expression of a man hearing a ghost knock on the door.
“Who is Matteo?” Grace asked.
Dominic said nothing.
Elena’s breathing accelerated.
The nurse moved in.
“That’s enough.”
Dominic remained frozen.
“Dominic.”
Grace touched his sleeve.
He looked at her hand as though he had forgotten another person was present.
“Who is Matteo?”
“My brother.”
Grace looked at Elena.
“Your brother did this?”
Dominic’s jaw tightened.
“My brother has been dead for fourteen years.”
The nurse pushed them into the hallway.
Grace followed Dominic.
“Dead?”
“I attended the funeral.”
“You said the bracelet belonged to your mother.”
“It did.”
“And now there are two.”
“Yes.”
“One has your initials.”
“Yes.”
“And a woman who was kidnapped says your dead brother is responsible.”
“Yes.”
Grace folded her arms.
“Anything else you forgot to mention before offering me a housekeeping job?”
“Cooking.”
“That distinction is not helping you.”
Dominic walked to a window.
His reflection looked almost as controlled as he did.
Almost.
“My mother had three bracelets made when we were children. One for me. One for Matteo. One for herself.”
“Where were yours?”
“Mine disappeared the night she died.”
“And Matteo’s?”
“With him when he was buried.”
Grace felt cold.
“So both should be impossible.”
“Yes.”
Behind the hospital door, the newborn began crying.
Grace looked back immediately.
Dominic noticed.
“You should go home.”
“What happens to the baby?”
“Elena has no family who can take him.”
“And Leo?”
“Mrs. Alvarez can keep Leo temporarily. She can’t care for an infant too.”
“Child services?”
“Probably.”
Grace pictured the tiny face against her chest.
“What’s his name?”
“Samuel.”
“Who is his father?”
“Elena refuses to say.”
Grace glanced at the door.
“Maybe she has a reason.”
Dominic’s expression told her he agreed.
Two hours later, Elena suffered a seizure.
Doctors sedated her.
Samuel remained in protective custody.
Grace went home.
She did not sleep.
The following morning, Dominic called.
“Elena disappeared.”
Grace sat upright.
“What?”
“She’s gone.”
“From a private clinic?”
“Security cameras failed for eight minutes.”
“And Samuel?”
“Safe.”
“Leo?”
“Safe.”
“Dominic—”
“I need you to listen.”
His voice had changed.
“You are now connected to this.”
“Because I held a baby?”
“Because Elena spoke to you.”
“She spoke to you too.”
“People expect me to be a target.”
Grace went still.
“Are you saying I am?”
“I’m saying I don’t know.”
She stood and went to the window.
Below, Brooklyn moved normally.
A woman walked a terrier.
A school bus stopped.
Nothing looked dangerous.
That was what frightened her.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Come to my house.”
“For protection?”
“For the job.”
Grace almost laughed.
“You’re still thinking about dinner?”
“I’m thinking about access.”
“Explain.”
“My house is the one place I can control.”
“You just told me someone inside your house is stealing information.”
“Exactly.”
“So your plan is to bring me into the place where the traitor lives?”
“My plan is to change the board.”
“I am not a chess piece.”
“No.”
A pause.
“You’re the person nobody will expect.”
Grace hated that the logic made sense.
“I’m not agreeing to anything permanent.”
“I know.”
“I cook.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t carry weapons.”
“Fine.”
“I don’t participate in crimes.”
“Fine.”
“I keep my own phone.”
“Yes.”
“And Leo and Samuel stay protected.”
Dominic paused.
“Yes.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“When?”
“A car is downstairs.”
She looked out.
A black sedan waited beside the curb.
“You are unbelievably irritating.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Dominic’s mansion stood behind iron gates in Riverdale, overlooking the Hudson.
Grace expected darkness.
Heavy curtains.
Men whispering in corners.
Instead she found sunlight.
White marble.
Cream walls.
A kitchen larger than her entire apartment.
The place looked less like a criminal headquarters than a luxury magazine.
Yet something was missing.
Life.
No photographs.
No books left open.
No coat tossed over a chair.
No fingerprints on polished surfaces.
It was a house prepared for people who never arrived.
Dominic showed her the kitchen.
“This is bigger than the bakery.”
“You’ll have help.”
“I don’t need six people chopping onions.”
“You have two.”
“Still excessive.”
A woman entered.
Late fifties.
Silver hair.
Sharp eyes.
“Mr. Valenti.”
“Grace, this is Sofia Mancini. She has run this house since I was twenty-two.”
Sofia inspected Grace.
“You’re thin.”
Grace blinked.
Dominic looked away, hiding a smile.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“You cook Italian?”
“Yes.”
“Properly?”
“Define properly.”
“With patience.”
“Then yes.”
Sofia nodded.
“You may survive.”
She left.
Grace turned to Dominic.
“Does everyone here threaten people?”
“She likes you.”
“That was liking me?”
“For Sofia, yes.”
The first week passed almost normally.
Grace cooked.
She watched.
She learned.
Dominic drank espresso at 6:20 every morning.
He skipped breakfast when worried.
Sofia pretended not to care about anyone and cared about everyone.
A security chief named Victor Hale never removed his jacket.
Dominic’s attorney, Julian Cross, visited every other day.
A younger cousin named Anthony Valenti came without warning and treated the mansion like his own.
Grace noticed people talked differently around Dominic.
Anthony joked.
Julian advised.
Victor reported.
Sofia scolded.
Everyone else obeyed.
At night, Grace returned to her private suite.
Sometimes she heard Dominic walking the hallway long after midnight.
On the ninth day, child services called.
Samuel needed emergency placement.
The certified foster family scheduled to take him had withdrawn after receiving anonymous threats.
Grace went cold.
“What kind of threats?”
The caseworker would not say.
Dominic overheard.
“Bring him here.”
Grace stared at him.
“What?”
“My house has security.”
“You can’t just collect children.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re proposing to foster a newborn while under three federal investigations.”
Dominic frowned.
“Two.”
“That correction is not reassuring.”
Sofia entered carrying tea.
“Mr. Valenti cannot foster the child.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Why not?”
“Single male. Criminal allegations. No prior childcare certification.”
“I have no convictions.”
“You also have armed guards.”
Dominic looked offended.
“They are licensed.”
Grace rubbed her forehead.
The caseworker called back an hour later.
There was one option.
Grace.
Because she had passed background checks when caring for her elderly employer and had already been registered in the temporary kinship-support system through Leo’s case.
But there was a problem.
Her current residence.
Dominic solved it immediately.
“List this address.”
Grace turned.
“No.”
“Samuel needs somewhere safe.”
“I know.”
“And you already live here.”
“Temporarily.”
“Then temporarily foster him.”
Grace looked through the glass doors toward the river.
She thought about the baby sleeping alone somewhere under fluorescent lights.
“All right.”
Samuel arrived that evening.
Grace carried him through the mansion’s massive black door.
Dominic stood on the other side in a black suit.
Exactly as in another life she might have imagined a dangerous man waiting for judgment.
Instead, he looked at the infant and said, “He’s smaller than I remember.”
“He didn’t grow six inches in a week.”
“I don’t know babies.”
“I noticed.”
Samuel sneezed.
Dominic stepped backward.
Grace laughed.
“You’ve terrified half of New York.”
“He made a sound.”
“He sneezed.”
“Is that normal?”
“Yes.”
Sofia, watching from the hallway, smiled.
That night Samuel refused to sleep.
Grace walked him through the kitchen at two in the morning.
Dominic entered.
Tie gone.
Shirt sleeves rolled up.
“He’s crying.”
“Excellent observation.”
“What does he want?”
“If babies came with written instructions, civilization would be easier.”
Dominic stood awkwardly.
“Can I do something?”
Grace almost said no.
Then Samuel screamed louder.
“Yes. Take him.”
Dominic looked horrified.
“Take him?”
“You volunteered.”
“I meant make a bottle.”
“Too late.”
She placed Samuel in his arms.
Dominic became completely motionless.
“Support his head.”
“I am.”
“You’re holding him like evidence.”
“I have never held one.”
Grace softened.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re negotiating a hostage exchange.”
Samuel opened his eyes.
Dominic looked down.
Something happened.
The powerful man disappeared.
For several seconds, there was only a tired forty-year-old holding a child who trusted him without understanding who he was.
Samuel stopped crying.
Dominic whispered, “Why did he stop?”
“He likes you.”
“He doesn’t know me.”
“Maybe babies are better judges of character than newspapers.”
Dominic looked at her.
“Careful.”
“Was that almost a joke?”
“Go make the bottle.”
Grace did.
The next morning photographs appeared online.
Dominic Valenti.
Grace Holloway.
A newborn child.
Headline:
MAFIA KING’S SECRET FAMILY?
Grace nearly dropped her phone.
Dominic read the article.
His expression hardened.
“We have a leak.”
“Obviously.”
“It came from inside the property.”
“How do you know?”
“The photograph was taken from the east garden.”
Grace looked toward the windows.
Someone inside the gates had sold them out.
By noon, reporters gathered outside.
By three, Samuel’s caseworker called.
The placement was under review.
By four, Dominic’s attorney arrived with a solution so absurd that Grace laughed before he finished explaining it.
“No.”
Julian remained calm.
“A legally recognized family unit would strengthen the placement.”
“You mean marriage.”
“Yes.”
“To him.”
Dominic stood across the room.
Equally unhappy.
Grace pointed.
“He hired me to cook ten days ago.”
Julian shrugged.
“Stranger marriages have begun with less.”
“No.”
Dominic said, “Agreed.”
Grace looked at him.
“Good.”
Julian placed a document on the table.
“If Samuel is removed, we may lose our only protected connection to Elena.”
Grace’s anger faded.
“Connection?”
“His medical records.”
Dominic looked at Julian sharply.
“You said tests weren’t back.”
“They are now.”
Julian opened the file.
“Samuel’s DNA has a familial match in an old private database.”
Grace’s stomach tightened.
“To whom?”
Julian looked at Dominic.
“Your mother’s family.”
Dominic stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
Julian slid a page forward.
“The probability is greater than ninety-nine percent.”
Grace looked between them.
“What are you saying?”
Julian inhaled.
“Samuel is a Valenti.”
Nobody spoke.
Then Dominic’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“Where?”
Grace stood.
“What happened?”
Dominic ended the call.
“They found Elena.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief hit Grace.
Then Dominic added:
“She was found inside my mother’s crypt.”
Grace stared.
Dominic reached for his coat.
A security guard appeared at the doorway.
“Boss.”
“What?”
The man swallowed.
“There was someone else inside.”
Dominic stopped.
“Who?”
May you like
The guard looked directly at him.
“The coffin was open.”
