Chapter 2 - THE SILVER MEDAL
I slowly lowered myself into the empty chair beside Margaret, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Sitting with a customer was a fireable offense at Bellini’s. Sitting with the mother of Nicholas Romano felt like I was crossing a line I would never be able to uncross.
David stood ten feet away, his face pale, completely immobilized by the terrifying man standing at the head of the table.
Nicholas Romano didn’t look at my manager again. He kept his dark, intense gaze entirely on me.
Up close, the rumors about him didn’t do him justice. He possessed a commanding, quiet authority that didn't require raising his voice. Every movement he made was deliberate.
“You’re trembling, Anna,” Nicholas said softly.
I quickly pulled my hands into my lap, hiding them beneath my stained apron.
“I’m just... I’m not supposed to be sitting down, Mr. Romano. We’re very understaffed tonight.”
“Then they should hire more people,” he replied, his voice completely calm. He signaled to one of the enormous men standing near the entrance.
Within seconds, the man approached.
“Yes, boss?”
“Tell the manager to comp Table Six’s meal, find them a new server, and tell him if he interrupts my mother’s dinner again, I’ll buy this restaurant just to fire him.”
The bodyguard nodded and walked away.
I sat frozen, unable to process what had just happened. My job was my only lifeline. Since my father passed away, the rent on my tiny apartment had climbed, and the medical bills from his final days in the hospital were still suffocating me.
Margaret reached out and patted my arm.
“Don’t worry about David, sweetheart. Nicky won't let him hurt you.”
Nicholas pulled out the chair across from his mother and finally sat down. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing a tailored charcoal vest.
“My mother tells me you were discussing your father,” Nicholas said, skipping any small talk.
I swallowed hard. “Just for a moment.”
“She said he passed away three years ago.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was it sudden?”
The question felt surprisingly intrusive, but under his heavy gaze, I couldn’t lie.
“It was a car accident. On the icy roads near the old shipyard.”
For a fraction of a second, a shadow passed over Nicholas’s face. It was so fast I thought I had imagined it.
“The shipyard,” Nicholas repeated quietly. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the white tablecloth. “What was his name?”
“Thomas. Thomas Russo.”
Nicholas didn’t blink. He didn’t write it down. But the air around the table suddenly shifted. The warmth that had been there when he first kissed his mother’s cheeks evaporated, replaced by a sharp, calculating intensity.
Margaret looked between us, her brow furrowing. “Nicky? Is something wrong?”
“No, Mama,” he said smoothly, though his eyes never left mine. “I just find it fascinating how small Brooklyn can be.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, but my instincts were screaming at me to get up, to walk away, to apologize and run back to the kitchen.
Before I could move, Nicholas reached across the table.
I flinched, expecting him to grab my wrist. Instead, his long fingers lightly brushed against the collar of my uniform blouse.
My breath caught in my throat.
With incredible gentleness, he lifted the small silver necklace resting against my collarbone. It was a tarnished St. Jude medal, hanging from a cheap, fragile chain.
“Where did you get this?” his voice dropped an octave, losing all of its previous warmth.
“It was my father’s,” I whispered, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “He wore it every day. I took it from his personal effects at the hospital.”
Nicholas stared at the medal. His thumb brushed over a tiny, almost invisible scratch on the back of the silver pendant.
When he finally looked back up at me, the terrifying Mafia boss from the newspaper headlines was fully present in his eyes.
“Your father didn’t die in a car accident, Anna.”
I stared at him, my blood running cold. “What?”
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Nicholas slowly released the medal, letting it drop back against my chest.
“That medal wasn't on his body at the hospital,” Nicholas said softly, delivering a truth that shattered my entire reality. “Because I pulled it off his neck three years ago, right before I watched him get pushed into the freezing water of the shipyard.”
