Chapter 1 - “DON’T TEST ME”
The most dangerous man in Chicago had a crystal glass raised above another man's face when the waitress grabbed his wrist.
And then she said three words nobody in that restaurant had ever dared say to him.
“Don't test me.”
For one impossible second, Alessandro Moretti didn't move.
Neither did the men guarding him.
Neither did the terrified businessman crouching beside the overturned chair.
The entire dining room of Luchia's Ristorante seemed to stop breathing.
Bella Rossi knew she had just made the kind of mistake people didn't survive.
But she was already committed.
“Put the glass down,” she said.
Her voice was steadier than her hands.
Alessandro slowly turned his head toward her.
He was thirty-six years old, dressed in a charcoal Italian suit that probably cost more than Bella earned in six months. His dark hair was swept carelessly back from a face that belonged on the cover of a luxury magazine, although the thin scar across his left eyebrow suggested he had lived a considerably less luxurious life.
His eyes were almost black.
And right now, they were fixed on the waitress holding his wrist.
“Do you know,” he asked quietly, “who you're touching?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should know better.”
Bella swallowed.
Behind him, Vinnie Gallo, a mountain of a man with hands the size of dinner plates, shifted his weight.
“Miss,” Vinnie warned, “take your hand off him.”
Bella didn't.
Across the table, Salvatore Bianke trembled so violently that the ice in his untouched whiskey rattled.
Ten minutes earlier, Bella had been worrying about whether she could afford her brother's next medical treatment.
Twenty-four thousand dollars.
That was the amount written on the latest statement from St. Agnes Medical Center.
Twenty-four thousand dollars for another cycle of medication that might keep eleven-year-old Luca Rossi alive long enough for a specialist to find a more permanent solution.
Bella had $683 in her checking account.
Her rent was overdue.
Her car needed brakes.
And the hospital's billing department had called twice that afternoon.
She had spent six years raising Luca after their parents died in a highway accident, learning how to be a sister, mother, accountant, and emergency contact all at once.
She could not afford to lose her job.
But she could not stand there and watch a man get his face smashed open, either.
“You're frightening everyone,” Bella told Moretti. “There are families eating here.”
His gaze moved briefly over her shoulder.
A woman at the nearest table had one protective arm around her teenage daughter.
A waiter stood frozen beside the dessert cart.
The restaurant manager, Mr. Henderson, had disappeared into the kitchen.
Moretti looked back at Bella.
“Are you giving me orders?”
“I'm telling you to put down the glass.”
“You don't seem to understand your position.”
“And you don't seem to understand mine.”
Something changed in his expression.
Not quite anger.
Interest.
“What is your position, Miss...?”
“Rossi. Bella Rossi.”
“Miss Rossi,” he repeated. “You work in a restaurant where people understand discretion.”
“I work in a restaurant where people come to eat dinner.”
“And?”
“And nobody should need an ambulance because the steak wasn't your biggest disappointment tonight.”
Someone behind the bar made a strangled noise.
Vinnie stared at Bella as though she had just announced plans to rob the Federal Reserve.
Salvatore slowly lowered his hands.
Alessandro's mouth moved almost imperceptibly.
For an instant, Bella thought he might be smiling.
Then his face hardened.
“Let go.”
“Put it down first.”
“You're making a very dangerous bargain.”
Bella leaned closer.
She was frightened enough to feel sick, but something about the man's certainty made her furious.
He had never looked at a hospital bill and wondered which possession to sell.
He had never watched a child apologize for being expensive to keep alive.
He could destroy her entire world with one phone call.
And he knew it.
“Listen carefully,” she whispered. “You can threaten me. You can have me fired. You can make every rich person in this room hate me. But I will not stand here and watch you hurt somebody because you think nobody has the courage to stop you.”
His fingers tightened around the glass.
Vinnie took a step forward.
Bella finally released Moretti's wrist.
Then she did something even more reckless.
She pointed directly at his chest.
“Don't test me, Mr. Moretti. I've already survived worse things than a bad night with a powerful man.”
The silence became unbearable.
Alessandro studied her face.
He noticed the exhaustion beneath her eyes.
The fading burn scar across her knuckle.
The inexpensive shoes worn thin at the heels.
And the fact that she had positioned herself between him and a man she didn't even know.
Slowly, he lowered the glass.
He placed it on the white tablecloth.
“Vinnie.”
“Boss?”
“Sit down.”
“But—”
“Now.”
Vinnie returned to his chair.
Alessandro looked toward Salvatore.
“Consider yourself fortunate.”
Salvatore nodded frantically.
“Yes. Of course. Thank you, Alessandro.”
“I haven't forgiven you.”
“I understand.”
“And we're going to finish this conversation somewhere less public.”
Bella let out a breath.
Her knees suddenly felt unreliable.
She turned toward the service station.
“Miss Rossi.”
She stopped.
Moretti's voice followed her across the silence.
“Come back.”
Every instinct told her to keep walking.
Instead, she returned.
“Yes, sir?”
His gaze dropped to the white envelope lying beside Salvatore's plate.
“Pick that up.”
Bella frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Bianke seems incapable of controlling his hands.”
Salvatore reached for the envelope.
Alessandro stopped him with a glance.
Bella picked it up.
It was heavier than she expected.
A stack of invoices slipped halfway out through the unsealed opening.
She tried to push them back inside.
Then she saw a familiar name.
ROSSI, LUCA.
Her breath caught.
She pulled one sheet free.
At the top was a corporate heading:
NORTHSTAR MEDICAL DISTRIBUTION.
Beneath it appeared a shipment number, an authorization code, and the name of her brother.
The final line made the blood drain from her face.
PATIENT-ASSIGNED MEDICATION: DIVERTED PRIOR TO DELIVERY.
Bella read it again.
Then again.
“What is this?”
Salvatore made a desperate sound.
Alessandro's attention sharpened.
“What did you say?”
Bella held up the document.
“This is my brother.”
Moretti looked at the page.
“Your brother?”
“Luca Rossi. He's eleven. He's a patient at St. Agnes.”
Salvatore abruptly stood.
“I should go.”
Vinnie blocked his path.
“Sit.”
Bella stared at the document.
Her brother had received an infusion seven days earlier.
She remembered because Luca had been sick afterward.
He had spent the entire night feverish and exhausted, apologizing whenever she brought him water.
But the document in her hand said the medication assigned to him had never reached the hospital.
“That isn't possible,” she whispered.
Moretti took the sheet.
For the first time that evening, his composure fractured.
He recognized the shipment number.
And he recognized the company listed as the receiving contractor.
It belonged to him.
“What exactly does diverted mean?” Bella asked.
Salvatore began shaking his head.
“It's an accounting classification. Nothing more.”
Bella turned toward him.
“Then explain it.”
“Miss, you don't understand—”
“My brother was given medicine last Tuesday. If that medicine wasn't delivered, what did they put into his body?”
Nobody answered.
She turned to Alessandro.
He was reading the page with a stillness more frightening than his earlier anger.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He didn't look up.
“Mr. Moretti!”
His eyes met hers.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
Alessandro folded the document once.
Then he spoke to Salvatore.
“Who authorized this?”
Salvatore's lips trembled.
“Alex, please.”
“Who?”
“I can explain.”
“Then start.”
Salvatore looked toward Bella.
His expression was no longer merely frightened.
It was horrified.
“You weren't supposed to find that name,” he whispered.
Bella felt the room tilt.
“What?”
Salvatore stared at the floor.
“The Rossi boy wasn't supposed to be on the list.”
Moretti stood so abruptly that his chair scraped backward.
“Vinnie. Lock the front doors.”
Bella backed away.
“No. Nobody's locking anything until somebody tells me what's happening.”
Alessandro turned to her.
And for the first time, there was something unmistakably human in his expression.
Regret.
“Miss Rossi,” he said quietly, “I think someone has been stealing your brother's medicine.”
Bella looked from his face to the document.
“Who?”
Moretti glanced at Salvatore.
Then he gave an answer that would change every life in that restaurant.
“Someone who works for me.”
And before Bella could speak, her phone began ringing.
May you like
The screen displayed:
ST. AGNES MEDICAL CENTER — PEDIATRIC EMERGENCY.
