Chapter 1: The Bowl on the Floor
“If you want to eat, then eat like a dog.””
Vittorio DeLuca stopped in the kitchen doorway.
For several seconds, nobody noticed him.
Not Bianca.
Not Marcus.
And certainly not eight-year-old Lucy, who was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
A ceramic bowl sat on the marble floor in front of her.
Inside were scraps from dinner—cold meat, soggy vegetables, pieces of bread soaked in gravy.
Lucy was on her knees.
Bianca stood behind her with one hand gripping the back of the little girl's sweater.
“Please,” Lucy whispered.
“I'm hungry.””
“Then eat.””
Bianca shoved the bowl closer with the toe of her designer heel.
Marcus leaned against the dining table, arms folded.
“She's always been spoiled,” he said.
“Maybe this will finally teach her.””
Lucy wiped her face.
“Can I have a plate?””
Bianca laughed.
“A plate?””
She bent down until her face was inches from Lucy's.
“Good girls get plates. Liars get bowls.””
Lucy looked at the food.
Then she slowly lowered her head.
That was when Vittorio moved.
“Lucy.””
His voice was quiet.
Bianca froze.
Marcus straightened.
Lucy turned.
The moment she saw her father, something inside her seemed to break.
“Daddy!””
Vittorio crossed the room and dropped to his knees.
Lucy threw herself into his arms.
He felt her trembling.
“I'm here,” he said.
Her fingers clutched his jacket.
Then Lucy whispered something that made the entire room disappear around him.
“Daddy… am I a human being?””
Vittorio closed his eyes.
Just once.
When he opened them, his expression had changed.
“Who told you that you weren't?””
Lucy didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
Bianca released a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please. Don't turn this into some melodrama.””
Vittorio rose slowly, keeping Lucy behind him.
“What happened?””
“She stole food.””
“I took bread,” Lucy whispered.
“I was hungry.””
Bianca rolled her eyes.
“She had already been told there would be consequences.””
“For eating bread?””
“For disobeying me.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Vittorio, you're seeing five seconds of a situation you don't understand.””
Vittorio stared at him.
“And you're in my house.””
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“Bianca asked me to come over.””
Vittorio turned back to Bianca.
“You told me Marcus wasn't coming here anymore.””
“He's my brother.””
“He threatened my staff.””
Marcus laughed.
“Your staff?””
His eyes moved toward Emma, the housekeeper standing silently beside the pantry.
Vittorio hadn't noticed her.
Emma looked pale.
Her right hand was tucked against her apron.
Bianca noticed Vittorio looking.
“Emma,” she snapped.
“Leave.””
Emma didn't move.
“I said leave.””
Still nothing.
Marcus pushed away from the table.
“What's wrong with you?””
Emma finally lifted her hand.
She was holding a phone.
“This isn't the first time.””
Silence.
Bianca's face drained of color.
Marcus reacted faster.
“Give me that phone!””
He charged across the kitchen.
Emma stumbled backward.
Vittorio intercepted him.
Marcus swung first.
Vittorio blocked the blow and drove one hard punch into Marcus's chest and shoulder.
Marcus crashed backward into the dining table.
Silverware jumped.
A wineglass toppled and rolled across the wood.
“Stay down,” Vittorio said.
Marcus coughed, furious.
“You have no idea what you're doing.””
Bianca suddenly lunged toward Lucy.
“You little brat!””
Lucy screamed.
Vittorio caught Bianca's wrist before she could grab her.
Bianca twisted free and swung at him.
Vittorio pushed her arm aside.
Her momentum carried her into the kitchen island.
She caught herself against the marble edge.
“That brat is mine!”” Bianca screamed.
Vittorio became completely still.
“No,” he said.
“She's my daughter.””
Bianca's eyes widened.
“You think you can throw me away after everything I've done for this family?””
Vittorio looked down.
The bowl of scraps was still on the floor.
He picked it up.
For one terrible second, Bianca looked frightened.
Vittorio carried it to the dining table and placed it in front of her.
“Enjoy your last meal in this house.””
Marcus pushed himself upright.
“You can't kick her out.””
Vittorio looked at him.
“Watch me.””
Emma stepped closer.
“Mr. DeLuca…”
Her voice shook.
“You need to see what's on this phone before they leave.””
Bianca's fear became panic.
“She's lying.””
Emma unlocked the device.
“I started recording three weeks ago.””
Vittorio looked down at the screen.
Lucy buried her face against his side.
Emma opened a folder.
There were dozens of files.
Videos.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
And one document that made Vittorio's blood run cold.
He looked at Bianca.
“What is this?””
Bianca said nothing.
Marcus did.
“Emma, don't.””
Vittorio turned toward him.
Marcus had stopped looking angry.
Now he looked terrified.
Emma swallowed.
“This wasn't only about Lucy.””
She tapped the screen.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Bianca sitting across from a man Vittorio knew very well.
May you like
His family attorney.
And between them was a folder bearing Vittorio's name.
