Chapter 1
The glass archways of the Morello botanical conservatory trapped the afternoon heat, filtering the bright, cinematic sunlight into a vibrant, living kaleidoscope of emerald and gold. There was no yellow tint to the air; the light was pure and natural, illuminating the rich colors of the exotic flora and the pristine formal wear of the assembled guests. Dozens of capos, high-rolling donors, and alert bodyguards populated the room. They were all white Americans, their fair, rosy skin glowing with health and wealth, their sharp American accents blending into a sophisticated hum of cocktail chatter.
Valentina Morello stood near the edge of the deep indoor koi pond, projecting the elegant, terrifying authority of a veteran Mafia boss. At forty-seven, she wore a tailored dark pantsuit over a silk blouse, her family signet ring and diamond earrings catching the brilliant light. Her three-year-old son, Owen, stood a few feet away, looking impeccably sharp in a conservatory-reception cardigan, trousers, and polished shoes. His fair, rosy cheeks were flushed with the excitement of the event.
Approaching them was Celeste, Valentina’s thirty-nine-year-old cousin. Draped in a luxurious garden-reception gown and heavy diamond jewelry, Celeste’s smile seemed perfectly polite to the untrained eye. Behind her walked Victor Morello, Valentina’s sixty-four-year-old uncle and the family’s former senior adviser, looking distinguished in an expensive formal suit and an old family ring.
"The turnout is exceptional today, Valentina," Victor noted, his deep American accent rolling smoothly over the ambient noise. "The donors are very pleased."
"They are pleased because we provide stability, Victor," Valentina replied, her eyes tracking her son as he stepped closer to the stone edge of the pond to look at the massive, swirling orange fish.
"Stability is a fragile concept," Celeste murmured, stepping up directly behind the young boy. "Wouldn't you agree, cousin?"
"I define our stability," Valentina stated, turning her head.
Before Valentina could register the sudden, sharp shift in her cousin's posture, Celeste reached out. With a violent, merciless thrust of her arms, she shoved Owen directly off the stone edge.
Valentina’s heart stopped. She instantly charged toward the water, her heels scraping against the stone.
But before she could reach the edge, Victor grabbed her from behind. The older man locked both of his heavy arms around her torso, his polished leather shoes planting firmly against the tile.
A heavy splash echoed over the polite chatter. Owen disappeared completely beneath the churning water.
"Let me go!" Valentina roared, thrashing wildly against her uncle's grip.
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Celeste stood at the edge of the pond, looking down at the bubbles rising to the surface. She smoothed the front of her luxurious gown, her rosy face set in a mask of sociopathic calm.
"Every dog knows how to swim," Celeste said coldly.
