In Manhattan's largest bookstore, a huge poster of my new book hung in the center."Congratulations, Miss Rossi, the first print run of one hundred thousand copies has already sold out," the store manager said, his face beaming. "This is without a doubt this year's literary phenomenon."I signed the last name, set down my pen, and rubbed my slightly sore wrist.Five years ago, I never could have imagined a moment of such glory, especially as the bestselling author Christine Rossi.I had to admit, the feeling of being in complete control of my own destiny was intoxicating.I was just about to get up and leave for the day when a small figure stumbled in, calling out to me timidly, "Christine..."I looked up, my movements pausing for a second.Luca, now almost seven, was taller. He wore a proper little suit and clutched a copy of my new book tightly in his hands.But he didn't look well.The once-arrogant little prince looked gaunt, with dark circles etched under his eyes.The bodyguards
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