Chapter 2 - The Oath at Midnight
That afternoon, Stone summoned Sofia to his private study—a room no servant had entered since the day the car bomb detonated. Sofia stood nervously by the mahogany doors, her hands trembling as she adjusted her worn uniform, expecting to be fired for Emma’s presence in the garden.
Instead, Stone stood by the grand fireplace, holding Julian’s old silver pocket watch. When Sofia saw it, the breath left her lungs. Tears welled in her dark eyes.
“You knew Julian,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
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“Julian saved my life, Sofia,” Stone said, his voice raw with an emotion he hadn’t felt in years. “And while I lived in luxury, his wife and child were eating crusts of bread in a freezing tenement in Cicero.” He walked over to her, taking her worn, bleach-stained hands in his own. “No more. From this second, you and Emma are under my personal protection. You will never scrub another floor. You will never worry about rent, cold nights, or where your next meal comes from.”
Stone immediately moved Sofia and Emma into the sunlit south wing of the mansion. He ordered the finest clothes, fresh organic food, and a team of private doctors to care for them. Yet, as the mansion filled with warmth for the first time in years, the shadows of Chicago’s underworld began to stir. Don Moretti, Stone’s ruthless rival, caught wind that the untouchable king of Chicago had developed a sudden vulnerability.
