Chapter 2

Next morning before dawn, the maid dragged me out of bed.

"Miss Vance, Boss says you need to dress up. There's a gala tonight at the Plaza, you're going as Miss Mia."

The maid's grip was rough, hurting my arm.

I forced myself up despite the soreness.

Let them paint makeup on my face.

Mia was Julian's adopted sister, his precious darling.

She was too delicate for these exhausting galas.

Julian always made me go as her stand-in.

We looked similar enough anyway.

Just wear a veil, stay quiet, and nobody would notice.

In the car, Julian kept his eyes closed.

Didn't even glance at me.

Only when we reached the hotel ballroom did he finally speak.

"Victor will be there tonight. Behave yourself."

"If he sees through this, you can start planning your father's funeral."

My father.

He'd been dead in prison for two weeks. Julian knew, but still used him to threaten me.

I couldn't expose the truth.

Leo still needed money for treatment.

I lowered my head. "Yes."

At the gala, champagne flowed.

I sat beside Julian, eyes down, peeling grapes on my plate.

A burning gaze stayed fixed on me.

I didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Victor sat at the head table in a black suit, dark hair slicked back.

The Don of New York's largest crime family.

The man every mobster in this room answered to.

Even radiating violence, his face was devastatingly handsome.

He played with his wine glass.

But his eyes never stopped roaming over me.

He raised his glass toward Julian, but his gaze licked across my collarbone as he smiled.

"You're a lucky man. Your sister may be fragile, but that body..."

"I'd recognize it anywhere. Unforgettable."

Julian's face went pale, but he could only force a smile and drain his glass.

Under the table, he dug his fingers into my thigh.

The pain made my hand shake. The grape I'd peeled rolled onto the floor.

"Useless piece of shit."

Julian cursed under his breath.

After three rounds of drinks, Victor stood to leave.

As he passed our table, he paused.

A lighter slipped from his pocket, landing right at my feet.

Heavy platinum Zippo.

Everyone around was talking, nobody noticed.

I bent down instinctively to pick it up.

The metal was warm, silky smooth against my fingers.

Long and thick, with just enough heft.

Victor didn't walk away.

Instead, he used one finger to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. Right in front of Julian.

His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate.

"Such skilled hands."

His voice dropped to a rasp.

"You know exactly how to handle things."

He leaned closer, breath hot against my ear.

"Keep it. Take it home and... practice with it."

"Get yourself familiar with the shape. The weight. How it feels."

His eyes gleamed with dark amusement.

"I want you well-trained."

Julian's wine glass shattered in his grip, liquid spilling everywhere.

I didn't dare look up, just pressed my lips together.

This lighter is worth a fortune, enough to cover three years of Leo's treatments.

In the car going back, I carefully hid the lighter in my sleeve.

"Hand it over."

Julian's voice suddenly cut through.

I froze, didn't dare disobey, and gave him the lighter.

Julian held the lighter.

Examined it by the car's interior light, then let out a cold laugh.

"Custom Zippo? Victor's feeling generous."

He glanced at me dismissively.

"Think this is some kind of love token? It's just how he plays with women."

"Something like this, only someone as cheap and desperate as you would treasure it."

He casually flicked his wrist.

The lighter arced through the air, out the window, falling into a gutter on the side of the road.

"No... that was..."

I cried out, trying to stop him, but Julian pulled me into his arms.

"Shut up! It's just a piece of junk, contaminating my car."

I didn't care about dignity, threw myself at the window staring at that puddle of filth.

Cold spread through me from my feet upward.

That wasn't just a lighter.

That was Leo's medicine.

Leo's last breath, the lifeline he was desperately clinging to at death's door!

Julian watched my agony and seemed pleased.

"Remember this. You're just a substitute."

"Victor wants Mia Moretti, not you, Clara Vance."