Chapter 2
I closed the showroom.
Collectors out.
Guests out.
Only family, bodyguards, and my oldest capo remained.
Noah would not let go of Isabella.
I did not force him.
Instead I placed the torn halves of his paper flower on the table beside me.
“Start with the guest lists.”
Isabella sat across from me.
Grant stood under guard.
Vanessa refused to sit.
Fine.
Isabella spoke carefully.
“At first Noah was listed as Noah Lombardi-Hale.”
I remembered.
That was the name we used when he was born.
“Then?”
“Grant said the double name confused people.”
I almost laughed.
Old Mafia families survive five generations of cousins named Antonio and suddenly one child’s surname becomes confusing.
“What did he change it to?”
“Noah Hale.”
“Without asking you?”
She nodded.
Grant interrupted.
“He’s my son.”
I turned.
“And hers.”
Silence.
“And mine by blood.”
His jaw tightened.
Isabella continued.
“Then he started asking staff not to introduce Noah as your grandson.”
That was worse.
Names can be shortened.
Relationships cannot.
“Why?”
Her eyes filled.
“He said people already thought I had too much influence because of you.”
I leaned back.
There.
Influence.
Power.
Always nearby when cruelty pretends to be domestic.
Vanessa finally spoke.
“Grant wanted his own identity.”
I looked at her.
“Then he should’ve built one.”
Her face hardened.
“He got tired of being Massimo Lombardi’s son-in-law.”
I understood that.
What I did not understand was punishing Isabella and Noah for it.
Then Noah whispered:
“Daddy says Grandpa makes Mommy think she’s important.”
I went completely still.
Isabella closed her eyes.
Grant looked away.
There it was.
May you like
He had not been hiding Noah from my family.
He had been trying to reduce how much Lombardi blood existed inside his own house.
