Chapter 1 - The Weight of a Name
The quiet hum of the hotel lobby evaporated, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence.
The silver toy car rested in Storm Moretti’s palm, its polished surface catching the sharp, modern LED lights of the One Dalton lobby. The most feared man in New York did not move. He stood frozen, his eyes burning into Leo’s face with a ferocious, terrifying intensity.
"Dead?" Storm murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a shudder straight down my spine.
"Leo, come here," I said, my voice cracking despite my desperate attempt to sound composed. I reached out to pull my son back, but my hand was shaking so violently I could barely orient my fingers.
Leo didn't retreat. He stood his ground, his small shoulders squared, staring back at the towering billionaire with the exact same stubborn, analytical gaze Storm used when evaluating an enemy.
"My mom doesn't lie," Leo said, his six-year-old voice clear and steady. "She said he went away before I was born and never came back. That means he's dead."
Storm slowly rose to his full height. The tailored charcoal coat he wore made him look like a shadow cast over the pristine marble floor. His gaze finally drifted from Leo to me, and the sheer fury in his dark eyes was enough to stop my breath.
"Six years, Juliet," Storm whispered, stepping closer. The three security guards who had blocked the glass doors moved in unison, forming a human wall that completely cut us off from the street. "You took my child, ran to Boston, and told him I was in a grave?"
"You paid me to disappear, Storm," I hissed, finding a spark of my old fire beneath the paralyzing fear. "I did exactly what your legal contract demanded. I erased myself. I didn't think you'd mind if I erased the baby you didn't even care to ask about."
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Storm's jaw clenched so hard a muscle in his cheek violently twitch.
"We are going upstairs," he commanded, gesturing toward the private, gold-rimmed elevator bank. "Now."
