Chapter 2 - The Folded Photograph
The cinematic tension on the autumn park walkway was absolutely paralyzing.
Dominic’s jaw clenched so tightly the muscles visibly ticked. He couldn't see the yellow leaves falling around them, but he could hear the violent, frantic hammering of Isabella’s heartbeat. He could smell the sudden, sour scent of cold sweat breaking through her expensive perfume.
He slowly turned his head toward his fiancée, sensing her unusual, absolute terror.
"How do you know what she's talking about?" Dominic demanded softly.
"Dominic, she's just a crazy street child!" Isabella stammered, her voice pitching high with manic desperation. "Her parents probably sent her to beg for money! Let my guards take her away!"
Dominic ignored his fiancée entirely. He leaned his towering frame slightly forward toward the little girl in the pink dress.
Lily reached into the pocket of her small floral coat and pulled out a worn, folded photograph. She placed it directly into the center of Dominic’s large, scarred palm.
"Mama said you wouldn't remember her," Lily said in a clear, sweet voice.
Dominic’s tattooed fingers slowly closed around the folded paper. He ran his thumb across the edge. The cinematic realism of his profound shock was breathtaking. He felt a jagged, uneven tear along the right side of the photo paper.
It was the exact tear he had made four years ago, ripping a wedding photo in half the night his entire world burned down.
Extreme, suffocating tension radiated from the blind mafia boss. He gripped the photo so tightly his knuckles turned white.
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"Tell me her name, Lily," Dominic whispered, his voice trembling with a dark, agonizing hope.
👉 Lily spoke a single name, and the entire Chicago underworld was about to be turned upside down.
