Chapter 3 - The Gala's Shadow
Julian stared at the file Marcus handed him. Clara’s real last name wasn't Hayes. It was Bianchi. She was the estranged daughter of Carlo Bianchi, a mid-level enforcer who had betrayed the Rossi family five years ago and vanished.
“She changed her name when she went to college,” Marcus explained. “Clean record. No contact with her father. But the Morettis might know who she is.”
Julian’s blood ran cold. Was she a plant? A spy? He thought of her in the mud, holding the rope with his sons. No. Her affection for the boys was real. But he needed her where he could see her.
“Tell Miss Hayes to buy a dress,” Julian ordered. “She’s accompanying me to the Mayor’s charity gala tonight.”
When Clara descended the grand staircase that evening, Julian forgot how to breathe. The emerald-green silk gown clung to her curves, her hair swept up in an elegant twist. She looked less like a nanny and more like a mafia queen.
“Mr. Rossi, I’m not sure this is appropriate,” Clara said, nervously smoothing her skirt. “I’m your employee.”
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“Tonight, you are my alibi,” Julian lied smoothly, offering his arm. “Keep your eyes open, Clara. The people in this room smile, but they have teeth. Stay close to me.”
Clara looked up at him, her pulse jumping at the possessive grip he had on her waist. As they walked to the armored limousine, neither noticed the black sedan trailing them from the estate gates.
