Chapter 4 - A Ghost in the Morning Sun
Standing near the rosewood pedestal, Nora’s mother froze completely, her hand clutching the micro-fiber cloth against the crystal vase. Her breath hitched in her throat, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as the sound of Adrian’s laughter washed over her.
She slowly lifted her eyes to look at the powerful patriarch.
As Adrian laughed, his dark head tilted back slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in deep, genuine amusement. A dimple appeared on his left cheek—a subtle physical trait that had been hidden under a permanent scowl for four grueling years.
For Nora’s mother, time seemed to stop. The morning light hit Adrian’s face at a sharp angle, and for one terrifying, beautiful microsecond, it was as if she was no longer looking at Adrian Cole, the cold head of the crime family. She was looking at James.
James Cole had possessed that exact same laughter, that identical crease beside his left eye, that subtle tilt of the head whenever something absurd caught his humor. The physical resemblance between the two brothers, so long buried under Adrian’s grief, suddenly blazed back to life with agonizing clarity.
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Nora’s mother’s hand tightened around the heavy crystal vase until her knuckles turned ghostly white. The secret she had carried for forty-eight months—the truth about James, the truth about who Nora really was, and the incredible legacy James had left behind before he was killed—threatened to spill out of her chest.
She stared at Adrian, her lower lip trembling slightly, watching the man who held absolute power over her life laugh at the little girl who carried his family's blood.
