Chapter 2

The next day, the widows packed the family lounge. The room had turned into a trial with me as the defendant.

"I have to give her advance notice just to pick up my kid. Who's the mother here?"

Another mother jumped in. "Exactly. Last time I wanted to send my child to his grandmother's, they demanded two days' notice."

Vera raised her voice. "Has anyone had a family member denied a visit?"

Four or five hands went up.

"Pickups require notice. Address changes must be reported. Family visits need approval." Vera counted them off. "She controls access to our own children. That place is tighter than a prison."

Vera concluded. "The school has been open for years, and not one child has been attacked. That proves the threat was never real.

"Isabella keeps going on about this hit list. Either she's paranoid, or she's exaggerating the danger to take our money and make the Family depend on her."

Everything I'd done to protect those children had become proof that I was paranoid and hungry for power.

I scoffed and went back to my office.

That afternoon, Lucia DeLuca, Sophia's mother, came in with a cup of coffee.

"Donna, please don't be upset. We're mothers. We panic when it comes to our children."

She quickly set the coffee on my desk.

"There's something I've never told you. When Sophia was followed by that strange car, I knew you were the one who brought the children to the school that night.

"You got the call in the middle of the night and came for them yourself, without even calling security.

"I've never forgotten that."

"But after that video came out yesterday, I couldn't sleep." Lucia gripped the leather on the back of the chair. "I kept thinking about that money... if it went straight to us, at least we could decide for ourselves.

"Security or cash. That should be my choice."

She looked at me timidly, but she was firm.

I picked up the cup. Clumps of instant coffee sat undissolved at the bottom.

Bitterness rose in my chest.

When Sophia had been followed by a strange car, I hadn't waited for security. I'd gone after her myself and forced the car off the road.

I was injured and spent a week in the hospital.

"I can shut down the school. But if that car comes back, how will you protect Sophia?"

She fell silent, then shook her head. She had no answer.

She didn't know how deeply the D'Angelos hated us. She didn't know how many names were on their hit list or how much danger was hiding beneath the school's peaceful surface.

I understood. She had chosen Vera's side.

Not long after she left, my phone started buzzing again.

Matteo texted me. The school had gone viral again.

The photos the widows had leaked were everywhere: classroom layouts, guard shift schedules, side-angle shots of the cars parked behind the school, and a heavily cropped copy of the pickup procedure.

D'Angelo-controlled tabloids pushed the "hostage school" story even harder.

Overnight, I became a deranged control freak in the public eye.

A shipping company suspended operations with us on two routes.

A building materials supplier sent a two-line email. "Internal review still pending. Cooperation on hold."

Then someone knocked on my office door.

Matteo stood in the doorway, his face grim.

"Vera just filed a motion with the Family Council."

"What's in it?"

Matteo hesitated. "She wants your authority suspended while Lorenzo is away. She also wants you removed from the children's trust."

I nodded.

Matteo didn't leave. He struggled for words.

I sighed. "What else?"

"She's also—" His voice dropped. "She's telling outsiders to call her 'the widows' representative.' Some are even calling her the next Donna."

I laughed coldly. I'd expected nothing less.