Chapter 1 - The Girl Who Was Afraid to Stop Walking
THE MAFIA BOSS CAUGHT ME HOLDING HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER UP AS SHE LIMPED THROUGH HIS ENGAGEMENT PARTY—WHILE HIS FIANCÉE LAUGHED AND SAID THE LITTLE GIRL WAS JUST PRETENDING TO BE HURT FOR ATTENTION. BUT WHEN HE ASKED WHY HIS DAUGHTER COULD BARELY WALK, SHE GRABBED MY APRON AND WHISPERED, "PLEASE DON'T TELL DADDY. SHE SAID IF I STOP WALKING, I WON'T BE ALLOWED TO STAND BESIDE HIM AT THE WEDDING." THEN I FINALLY SPOKE: "SIR, YOUR DAUGHTER HAS BEEN BEGGING HER TO LET HER REST FOR TWO HOURS."
"Stand up straight, Sophia."
Vanessa Bellini's voice cut across the ballroom.
Nine-year-old Sophia Moretti stood beside the enormous engagement table.
Her pale pink dress shimmered beneath the chandeliers.
Her dark hair was tied with a white satin ribbon.
And she was desperately trying to keep her weight off one foot.
"I'm trying," she whispered.
Vanessa smiled at the nearby guests.
"She's been a little dramatic tonight."
Sophia immediately lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
I stepped closer.
"Sweetheart, come sit down."
But the little girl shook her head.
"Please, Miss Claire. I have to finish."
"Finish what?"
Her lips trembled.
"The walk."
Before I could ask another question, Vanessa snapped:
"Claire, stop encouraging her."
I froze.
"Ma'am, she's in pain."
Vanessa lowered her champagne glass.
"She's pretending. Children love attention."
Sophia flinched.
Then tried to take another step.
Her little leg wobbled.
I caught her before she lost her balance.
"That's enough, sweetheart."
She immediately grabbed my apron.
"Please don't tell Daddy."
Tears filled her eyes.
"Vanessa said if I can't walk properly tonight, I won't be allowed in the wedding."
My chest tightened.
Then a deep voice came from behind us.
"Who won't be allowed in my wedding?"
The ballroom fell silent.
I turned.
Luca Moretti stood near the grand staircase.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair swept back.
A perfectly tailored black suit covered his muscular frame.
Black tattoos climbed his neck and covered his hands.
The most feared man in Chicago was staring at his nine-year-old daughter.
"Sophia?"
The little girl immediately straightened.
"Daddy."
He approached.
"Baby, why are you standing like that?"
Vanessa laughed softly.
"Oh, darling, she's just tired. She's been practicing her entrance for the ceremony."
Luca frowned.
"What entrance?"
Vanessa's smile faltered.
"The wedding procession, sweetheart."
He looked toward Sophia.
"Peanut, are you hurt?"
She quickly shook her head.
"No, Daddy."
But when she tried to step toward him, she winced.
Luca immediately crouched.
"Stop, sweetheart. You don't need to walk."
Sophia's eyes filled.
"But I have to."
"Why?"
She glanced at Vanessa.
Then whispered:
"Because if I don't do it perfectly, she'll find another little girl to walk beside you."
Luca went completely still.
My name is Claire Bennett.
I'd worked at the Moretti mansion for nearly two years.
And until Vanessa moved in, Sophia had been the happiest child I'd ever known.
She loved dancing in the kitchen.
Drawing butterflies.
And running to the front door whenever her father returned home.
But over the past six weeks, something had changed.
Sophia stopped running.
Stopped laughing loudly.
And began apologizing whenever Vanessa looked displeased.
One afternoon, I found her practicing walking across the upstairs hallway.
Back and forth.
Again and again.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?"
She smiled nervously.
"Practicing for Daddy's wedding."
I looked at her little white shoes.
"Those look uncomfortable."
Sophia glanced toward the doorway.
"Vanessa said I have to wear them."
"Why?"
She swallowed.
"Because she wants the pictures to look perfect."
I offered to find her a more comfortable pair.
But Sophia immediately shook her head.
"Please don't."
Her eyes filled.
"She said if I complain, Daddy will think I'm trying to ruin his wedding."
I didn't understand how serious it was.
Not until the engagement party.
That evening, Vanessa had instructed Sophia to practice walking from the grand staircase to the engagement table.
Over and over.
While the guests arrived.
While the orchestra played.
While everyone else enjoyed champagne.
Whenever Sophia slowed down, Vanessa whispered:
"Again."
When she asked to sit, Vanessa replied:
"One more time."
And when the little girl finally admitted her feet hurt, Vanessa leaned down and said:
"Your father needs someone who can behave beautifully beside him. If you can't manage one simple walk, my niece will take your place."
Sophia went pale.
"Please don't."
Vanessa smiled.
"Then stop complaining."
By the time Luca arrived, his daughter was barely able to walk comfortably.
But she was still trying.
Because she'd been convinced that being included in her father's wedding was something she had to earn.
"Claire."
Luca's voice brought me back to the ballroom.
He was still crouched beside Sophia.
"Tell me what happened."
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
"Luca, don't encourage this nonsense."
He slowly looked up.
"I asked Claire."
My hands trembled.
I knew Vanessa could have me fired.
But I couldn't watch Sophia suffer in silence anymore.
"Sir, Miss Bellini made Sophia repeat the procession for almost two hours."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"That's ridiculous."
I continued.
"She refused to let her change into comfortable shoes, even after Sophia said walking was painful."
Luca turned toward Vanessa.
"Is that true?"
Vanessa folded her arms.
"She needs discipline. She's been spoiled for years."
He looked at his daughter.
"Peanut, did you ask to stop?"
Sophia nodded.
Her eyes filled.
"Lots of times."
Luca's expression changed.
"And what did Vanessa say?"
The little girl hesitated.
Then whispered:
"That if I couldn't do it, someone else would walk beside you."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Sophia added something that broke my heart.
"Daddy, I wasn't trying to be difficult. I just wanted to be the little girl holding your hand when you got married."
Luca closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he carefully lifted his daughter into his arms.
"Peanut, you never had to earn that."
She began crying.
"But Vanessa said—"
"I know, sweetheart."
He kissed her forehead.
"And I'm sorry I didn't know sooner."
Then the wedding photographer stepped forward.
"Mr. Moretti?"
Luca turned.
"Yes?"
"There's something you should see."
He handed Luca a printed photography schedule.
At the top was a list of wedding portraits.
Luca and Vanessa.
Vanessa's family.
The bridal party.
And the formal procession.
But beside the words Child accompanying the groom, Sophia's name had been crossed out.
Another name had been written underneath.
Emily Bellini — Vanessa's niece.
Luca stared at the paper.
Then slowly looked toward his fiancée.
"You already replaced my daughter?"
Vanessa went pale.
"Luca, it was only a backup arrangement."
He held up the schedule.
"Before you even knew whether she could walk comfortably?"
Vanessa couldn't answer.
He looked at Sophia.
She was still clinging to his neck.
Her face buried against his shoulder.
And suddenly he understood.
Vanessa hadn't been helping his daughter prepare for the wedding.
She'd been making the child struggle until she could justify replacing her.
"You wanted her to fail," he said quietly.
Vanessa shook her head.
"I wanted the wedding to be perfect."
Luca stared at her.
Then answered:
"A wedding that has no place for my daughter will never be perfect to me."
He removed his engagement ring.
Placed it beside the champagne glasses.
And told Vanessa the wedding was over.
Later that night, after Sophia had been examined and was resting comfortably, Luca sat beside her on the sofa.
Her little white shoes rested on the floor.
He gently adjusted her blanket.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Peanut?"
"Are you sad the wedding isn't happening?"
He looked at her.
"A little."
Sophia's eyes filled.
"Because I couldn't walk properly?"
His expression broke.
"No, sweetheart."
She swallowed.
"But if I'd just tried harder—"
Luca gently shook his head.
"You tried much harder than anyone should have asked you to."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
He carefully pulled her into his arms.
"You're my daughter. You never have to hurt yourself to prove you belong beside me."
Sophia hugged him tightly.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she whispered:
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Peanut?"
"If you get married someday, can I still walk beside you... even if I have to go really slowly?"
Luca closed his eyes.
Then kissed her forehead.
"Sweetheart, I'd walk as slowly as you need."
Sophia began crying.
He held her closer.
"And if you couldn't walk at all, I'd carry you."
She looked up at him.
"Really?"
He smiled through his tears.
"Every single step."
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And for the first time that evening, Sophia stopped worrying about how well she could walk.
Because she finally knew that the man everyone in Chicago feared would never make his little girl compete for a place at his side.
