Chapter 5 - COLOR DRAINS
Elena looked up from the laundry basket, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The moment her eyes landed on the small silver pendant suspended between Alessandro’s long, tattooed fingers, the remaining color drained instantly from her face.
Her knees went weak. The heavy wicker laundry basket slipped from her grip, hitting the white marble floor with a soft, dull thud, white towels and linens tumbling out onto the polished ground.
"Where did Mia get this?" Alessandro asked, his dark eyes rising from the silver metal to fixate on Elena’s pale face with a terrifying, unblinking intensity.
Elena swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow hitches. She pressed her hands against her pale-yellow apron, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.
"It... it belonged to her father," Elena stammered, her voice shaking violently.
Alessandro looked back down at the baby resting against his broad chest. Mia was staring up at him with wide, brown eyes, her small hand still resting over his heart.
He turned his hand over, flipping the tiny silver pendant over to examine the reverse side.
The camera stayed locked firmly on Alessandro’s face—the audience never permitted to see the intricate, hidden engraving on the back of the silver piece.
As his eyes read the tiny, weathered markings carved into the metal, Alessandro’s fingers tightened around the pendant so hard his signet ring dug into his skin.
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For the first time since Elena had worked in the penthouse—for the first time in the memory of any enforcer who served him—genuine, unadulterated fear appeared in Alessandro Duca’s eyes.
"What was her father’s name?" Alessandro asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
