Chapter 2 - The Green Crayon
The private study of Adrian Vale was a fortress of dark walnut wood, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined with leather-bound ledgers, and the faint, permanent scent of cedarwood, espresso, and gun oil.
Rachel walked in as if she were stepping across a minefield. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her head bowed slightly. She carried a silver tray with a porcelain cup of black coffee and a small crystal jar of honey.
At the far end of the room sat Adrian Vale.
At forty-one, he looked like a man sculpted out of granite and winter storms. His dark hair was threaded with silver at the temples, his jawline shadowed with thick stubble, and his slate-gray eyes possessed an intimidating stillness that could strip a man of his confidence in three seconds flat.
He was reading a manifest on his desk when he heard the soft click of the door.
He didn't look up immediately. “Put it down and leave the ledger from the Port Clinton warehouse.”
“Yes, Mr. Vale,” Rachel murmured, her voice soft and trembling.
She stepped forward, placing the coffee tray gently onto the corner of the massive mahogany desk. As she did, a small, frantic noise came from behind a heavy velvet curtain near the corner bookcase.
Adrian paused, his pen stopping mid-stroke.
Before Rachel could turn, a flash of pink cotton darted out from behind the curtain. Three-year-old Lily had slipped out of the staff quarters while her mother was called to the main house, wandering through the endless corridors until she found a door left slightly ajar.
In her fist, Lily clutched a bright green crayon she had found on a side table in the reception hall.
“Hey,” Lily said cheerfully.
Rachel gasped, her blood running cold. “Lily! No! Oh God, Mr. Vale, I am so sorry—”
Adrian didn't flinch. He slowly lifted his head, his slate-gray eyes locking onto the tiny girl standing right beside his chair.
Lily looked up at the terrifying mafia boss, tilted her head, and decided he looked entirely too serious. Unbothered by the aura of danger radiating from him, she reached up, pressed the green crayon firmly against his left cheekbone, and dragged it downward in a straight, sloppy line all the way to the corner of his mouth.
May you like
“There,” Lily announced proudly. “Now you look happier.”
That was the exact moment the entire mansion held its breath, and Natalie, watching from the hallway doorway, felt her stomach drop into a bottomless abyss.
