Chapter 1 - SHE DOESN'T BELONG HERE
“DADDY, IT'S OKAY! I CAN EAT ON THE FLOOR. THE PRETTY CHAIRS ARE FOR REAL FAMILY!” I stood frozen in the doorway of my mansion, watching my three-year-old daughter eat cold chicken nuggets beneath the dining table while my fiancée laughed with her friends. But when my little girl stopped herself from running into my arms and asked permission to hug me, I realized someone had been teaching my princess that she didn't belong in her own home.
My name is Lorenzo Moretti. I'm twenty-seven, six-foot-four, with broad muscular shoulders, cold gray eyes, and black tattoos covering my powerful arms.
I control one of New York's most feared mafia empires. Dangerous men tremble when I enter a room, but nothing prepared me for seeing Sophie treated like an unwanted animal.
My daughter had beautiful light-brown pigtails tied with pink ribbons, enormous chocolate-brown eyes, and adorable rosy cheeks. Her fluffy pink princess dress was spread across the marble floor beside a tiny pastel backpack.
“Daddy!” she squealed.
She started crawling toward me, then suddenly stopped.
“Miss Vanessa... can I hug Daddy now?”
My heart sank.
I knelt immediately. “Sweetheart, you never need permission to hug me.”
Sophie lowered her eyes. “Miss Vanessa says I'm naughty when I bother grown-ups.”
I lifted her into my arms and felt her trembling.
“Lorenzo!” Vanessa exclaimed. “You're home early!”
I ignored her. “Why is my daughter eating under the table?”
“It's a game, darling! Sophie loves pretending!”
Sophie shook her head. “No, Daddy. I'm the puppy. Puppies eat down here.”
I looked at the six women sitting around my table.
“Lunch is over.”
Five hurried away. One remained, looking horrified.
Margaret Collins, Sophie's preschool director, stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti, Vanessa told me Sophie was an abandoned relative you were temporarily caring for.”
I stared at my fiancée.
Margaret continued. “She also asked me to remove Sophie from the school's records. She said Sophie wouldn't be living here much longer.”
My arms tightened around my daughter.
“Where was she going, Vanessa?”
Silence.
Then Sophie opened her backpack.
“Daddy, I made you picture!”
She handed me a crumpled drawing.
Three figures stood beneath a yellow sun: Daddy, Sophie, and a woman in black.
Someone had crossed out Sophie with red marker.
Beneath it were four words.
SHE DOESN'T BELONG HERE.
I recognized Vanessa's handwriting.
“Who wrote this, princess?”
“Miss Vanessa. She says new baby gets my room.”
I turned toward my fiancée.
“You told me you were pregnant.”
Her face went pale.
I called my physician.
“Bring Dr. Harrison here. Immediately.”
Thirty minutes later, his records confirmed the impossible.
Vanessa had never been pregnant.
Then he showed me a private adoption application bearing Sophie's photograph and my signature.
Except I'd never signed it.
Someone had forged my name.
Sophie suddenly wrapped her little arms around my neck.
“Daddy? The man with the shiny lion ring says he's taking me tomorrow.”
My blood turned cold.
Only one man in my organization wore that ring.
My cousin.
My most trusted underboss.
Then my security chief called.
“Boss, the mansion gates just opened.”
“WHO AUTHORIZED THAT?”
“Your cousin, sir.”
I pulled Sophie closer.
Outside, tires screeched across the driveway.
“Daddy,” she whispered, trembling, “please don't let bad uncle take me.”
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Then someone began pounding on our front door.
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