Chapter 2 - THE SAPPHIRE BRACELET
The heavy doors of the black SUV closed, silencing the noise of the Chicago street.
Hannah sank into the plush leather seat, her hands trembling so badly she had to clasp them together in her lap. The red dress, which had felt like a victory in her tiny apartment, suddenly felt like a massive mistake.
Beside her, Alessandro Vitale was a study in stillness.
He didn't check his phone. He didn't adjust his cuffs. He simply watched her as the car pulled away from the curb.
"Breathe, Hannah," he said quietly.
"He's already there," she whispered, her chest tight. "Your uncle. He's at the bakery. You said he's trying to force you into a marriage, and now you're bringing me. He's going to ruin my mother's grand opening."
"My uncle does not ruin things in public," Alessandro replied, his voice smooth and dangerously calm. "He prefers quiet destruction."
"That isn't comforting."
Alessandro leaned forward and opened a small, polished wood compartment between the seats. He withdrew a long, black velvet box.
"If you are going to be introduced as my girlfriend," he said, flipping the lid open, "you need to look the part."
Hannah stopped breathing.
Resting on a bed of white silk was an antique bracelet. It was made of heavy, oxidized silver, encrusted with deep blue sapphires that caught the dim light of the car’s interior. It didn't look like something bought at a jewelry store. It looked like something stolen from a museum.
"I can't wear that," she said immediately. "I'll lose it. I'll break it."
"It survived two world wars, Hannah. I doubt a bakery opening will destroy it."
Before she could protest again, Alessandro reached across the console. His large, warm fingers gently took her right wrist. The contrast was startling—his skin tanned and scarred, hers pale and soft. He clasped the heavy metal around her wrist.
The weight of it was grounding.
"It belonged to my mother," Alessandro said softly.
Hannah looked up at him in shock. She had worked in his house for three years. She knew he never spoke of his parents.
"Why are you letting me wear it?" she asked.
"Because my uncle knows exactly what it means," he replied, his jaw tightening. "It means the woman wearing it is protected by the Vitale family. Completely."
The SUV slowed to a halt.
Through the tinted window, Hannah saw her mother’s bakery. The new awning looked beautiful. A crowd of people stood on the sidewalk holding champagne flutes.
And right in the center, looking perfectly tailored and infuriatingly smug, was Brian. He was holding the waist of a tall, impossibly thin blonde woman.
Hannah’s stomach twisted into a painful knot.
"I can't," she whispered, staring at Brian. "Look at him. He's waiting to laugh at me."
Alessandro looked out the window. His dark eyes locked onto Brian.
"He won't laugh," Alessandro said.
The driver opened Hannah’s door. The crisp afternoon air rushed in.
Alessandro stepped out of his side, walked around the back of the massive vehicle, and offered Hannah his hand.
She took it.
The moment her red heel touched the pavement, the conversation on the sidewalk stopped.
Complete, dead silence fell over the crowd.
Hannah felt the weight of fifty stares. She saw her mother’s jaw literally drop. She saw her sister, who had been laughing loudly, freeze with a champagne glass halfway to her mouth.
But it was Brian’s reaction that gave Hannah a sudden, electric jolt of satisfaction.
Brian wasn't laughing.
He was staring at Alessandro with wide, terrified eyes. The color completely drained from his handsome face. He took a physical step backward, bumping into his beautiful fiancée.
Alessandro didn't let go of Hannah’s hand. Instead, he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her soft curves firmly against his solid side.
"Smile, sweetheart," Alessandro murmured against her ear, his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "They're staring at the most beautiful woman on the street."
Hannah managed a shaky smile as they walked toward her family.
Her mother, recovering her senses, rushed forward. "Hannah! You... you look..." She stared at Alessandro, completely lost for words.
"Mrs. Cooper," Alessandro said smoothly, extending his free hand. "Alessandro Vitale. Your daughter has told me wonderful things about your baking. Thank you for having me."
"Vitale?" her mother repeated, her voice cracking slightly.
Before her mother could say another word, the crowd parted.
An older man with silver hair, leaning heavily on a black cane, walked forward. He wore a pristine gray suit. Two massive men in dark coats flanked him.
Alessandro’s grip on Hannah’s waist tightened fractionally.
This was the uncle. Carmine Vitale.
"Alessandro," Carmine said, his voice like gravel grinding together. "Imagine my surprise when your driver mentioned you were spending your Saturday in Oak Park."
"I have a busy schedule, Uncle," Alessandro said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I make time for the people who matter."
Carmine’s cold, dead eyes shifted to Hannah. He looked her up and down, dismissing her entirely.
Then, his gaze snagged on her wrist.
The sapphire bracelet.
Carmine stopped breathing. His knuckles turned white on the handle of his cane.
For a terrible, stretched second, nobody spoke.
Then Carmine took a step closer to Hannah, completely ignoring Alessandro. He reached out and violently grabbed Hannah’s wrist, lifting the bracelet into the sunlight.
"Where did you get this?" Carmine hissed, his polite veneer shattering.
"Let go of her," Alessandro commanded, stepping between them.
May you like
Carmine didn't let go. He leaned in, his face inches from Hannah’s, and whispered something that made her blood run entirely cold.
"The last woman who wore this bracelet begged me for her life before she stopped breathing."
