Chapter 1

The storm hit the New Jersey coast the day Luca Rinaldi left our ten-year-old son in Cavano territory.

He did it because Mara, his financial adviser and mistress, called to say she was pregnant.

Mara could barely breathe through her sobs.

She said a black sedan had been parked outside her apartment for two hours. Someone inside was watching her.

She said it might be one of the Rinaldi family's enemies. She was afraid for the baby.

Luca did not even send a man to confirm her story.

At the next turn, he ordered the driver to pull over at a closed gas station.

Anthony held his admissions packet against his chest.

He was supposed to take the entrance exam at St. Ignatius Preparatory School that morning.

It was one of the hardest Catholic boys' schools to enter on the East Coast. Luca had chosen it himself.

Anthony had prepared for the exam for two years.

"Dad, the exam starts in forty minutes."

He looked out the window. Rain hammered the glass. The gas station was dark, and the road was empty.

Carlo checked the area and lowered his voice.

"Boss, this is Cavano territory. We should leave one vehicle to take Anthony to school."

Luca did not turn around.

"Everyone comes with me. Mara is carrying a Rinaldi child. Nothing can happen to her."

Anthony grabbed the door before Luca could close it.

"What am I supposed to do, Dad?"

Luca frowned. His own son's fear seemed to annoy him.

"Walk down the road and flag down a cab."

"You are ten years old. You are not a baby who falls apart because his father steps away."

"If you cannot get to school on your own, you are not ready to inherit this family."

All three black SUVs pulled away.

Luca took the driver and every armed guard with him to protect Mara.

He left no one with Anthony.

Anthony stood under the broken awning and held his admissions papers tight. He watched his father's taillights disappear.

The station had no staff and there was no one nearby to help him.

He stepped into the storm because he did not want to miss the exam.

My ten-year-old son walked along an empty coastal road in enemy territory for half an hour before a cab finally stopped.

An hour later, a refrigerated truck struck the cab on an overpass. The cab broke through the guardrail and fell into the river.

By the time I reached St. Vincent's Hospital, the doctors had stopped trying to save him.

A nurse covered Anthony's face with a white sheet.

His school jacket was still wet. Muddy water filled his shoes. A deep cut crossed his forehead.

His small hand still held the admissions card he had tried so hard to keep dry.