Chapter 1 - The Chair
The chair vanished from beneath Alessia Rinaldi so fast that for one stupid second she thought the floor had moved.
Then her hip struck marble.
Pain shot through her right leg like a live wire.
The wedding ballroom erupted around her—silverware rattling, someone shouting, a violin stopping mid-note—but Alessia heard only her own breath and the soft scrape of Veronica Salvi sliding the chair back into place with one red-soled heel.
“Did you leave your eyes at home?” Veronica asked.
Alessia stared up at her.
The insult barely registered.
Her foot did not.
She pushed one palm against the floor and tried to rise. Her knee folded instantly. A sharp cry escaped her before she could swallow it.
Dr. Nathan Cole was the first person to reach her. He dropped beside her in his tuxedo, one hand hovering near her ankle without touching it.
“Alessia, look at me. Can you move your toes?”
She tried.
Nothing.
“I can’t feel my foot.”
Across the ballroom, Valerio Rinaldi turned away from a conversation with three men who had spent the last twenty minutes speaking in voices low enough to make everyone else pretend not to listen.
He saw his wife on the floor.
Then he saw Veronica standing over her.
The room changed.
Valerio crossed the marble with two bodyguards behind him, not hurrying, which was worse. People moved before he reached them.
Veronica folded her arms. “She’s exaggerating. She always does.”
She bent and grabbed Alessia beneath the arm.
“Don’t touch her,” Dr. Cole snapped.
Veronica ignored him. “Come on. Get up. You’re embarrassing—”
Valerio caught her wrist.
Not hard.
Not yet.
“Take your hand off my wife.”
Veronica’s face lost color.
“Valerio, I was helping.”
“You pulled the chair.”
“She sat without looking.”
“I watched you.”
That was a lie.
Valerio had not seen it.
But someone had.
At the edge of the dance floor, a sixteen-year-old waiter named Mateo stood frozen with a tray against his chest, staring at Veronica like he had just witnessed something he was never supposed to mention.
Alessia gripped Dr. Cole’s sleeve. “Nathan, my foot is cold.”
The doctor’s expression sharpened.
“Valerio, ambulance. Now.”
Valerio knelt beside her. The dangerous stillness vanished from his face when he looked at Alessia.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m furious.”
A tiny smile almost touched his mouth.
“Good.”
Then Dr. Cole pressed two fingers behind her ankle and went completely still.
“What?” Valerio asked.
Nathan looked up.
“This fall may have damaged the nerve, but it didn’t start the problem.”
Alessia’s stomach tightened.
“What problem?”
Nathan glanced at Veronica.
“The weakness in her leg was already there.”
The ballroom fell silent again.
May you like
Veronica took one step backward.
And the teenage waiter dropped his tray.
