Chapter 2 - The Boy in the Tuxedo
"Vincent, where are you going?" Sophia asked, her voice laced with sudden, sharp confusion as her fiancé ripped his arm away.
Vincent completely ignored her. The ruthless, calculating exterior of the mafia boss had evaporated. He pushed aggressively through the crowd of wealthy, stunned guests, his dark eyes locked entirely on the woman in the sparkling red gown. He didn't care who he bumped into. He didn't care about his reputation.
"Anna!" Vincent shouted, his urgent, desperate voice cutting through the polite jazz music playing in the background.
Anna stopped walking. But she didn't turn to look at him.
Vincent reached his heavily tattooed hand out, desperate to touch her, desperate to prove that his grief-shattered mind wasn't playing a cruel trick on him.
But just as his fingertips were inches from the red silk of her gown, a tiny blur of motion darted across the polished marble floor.
It was a little boy, no older than three, wearing a tiny, perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He sprinted through the crowd of towering adults with absolute, unadulterated joy.
"Mommy!" the little boy shouted joyfully.
Anna instantly turned away from Vincent. She dropped to her knees on the hard marble floor, a bright, fiercely loving smile spreading across her beautiful face. She opened her arms wide and caught the running child, spinning him gently as he buried his face in her neck.
Vincent stopped dead in his tracks. His outstretched hand froze in mid-air.
He stared at the little boy's dark hair. He stared at the child's face.
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The cinematic realization hit him with the force of a freight train. When Anna had died in that explosion three years ago, she had been six months pregnant.
👉 What horrifying truth is the mafia boss about to realize about the explosion?
