Page 1 of Sins of the Father
PROLOGUE
Mia realized her family was different the day she found the gun. She’d been playing hide-and-seek in her father’s office, a place she wasn’t supposed to be. At first, she thought it was a toy, like the ones her cousin Gio played with, but heavier.
Too heavy.
Her small hands trembled as she picked it up, the cold metal foreign against her skin. A strange mix of curiosity and unease filled her.
“It’s a gun,” she whispered. Mia tilted her head, peering down the barrel like she’d seen on TV. “Why does Papa have one?”
“Mia!No!”
Donata’s scream shattered the quiet. Startled, Mia fumbled with the gun, her heart pounding. She whirled around. Her nanny’s usual composure was replaced by panic. Her face turned ashen as she rushed across the room, her steps frantic.
“Put that down immediately!”
“It’s just a toy, isn’t it?” Mia asked, wide-eyed, her voice small.
“No!” Donata’s voice cracked.
She lunged forward, snatching the weapon from Mia’s hands. The gun hit the floor with a resounding thud that seemed to reverberate through the entire house. Mia froze, her heart racing as Donata grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. The nanny’s arms wrapped around her tightly, as if shielding her from something unseen, her body trembling.
“You mustnevertouch something like that again. Do you hear me?” Donata’s voice quivered, but her grip was firm, desperate.
“I—I didn’t mean to…” Mia stammered, confused and frightened by the sudden outburst.
Donata kneeled to look her in the eye, her expression both stern and terrified. “Promise me, Mia. Promise me you’ll stay out of this room.”
“Why?”
“This is not a place for little girls.”
Before Mia could ask what made the room forbidden to her, the heavy front door creaked open. Her father’s voice called from the foyer. “Donata?”
Mia grinned. She had missed her papa. Donata’s head snapped toward the sound, her expression shifting from fear to something harder for Mia to understand. Only a part of her recognized fear. Donata stood quickly, smoothing her apron, and ushered Mia out of the office. “Go to your room. Now.”
“But—”
“Now,Mia.”
Moments later, her father’s imposing frame filled the doorway. His dark eyes swept the room, taking in the scene: Donata’s trembling hands, the gun now safely on the desk, and Mia peeking out from behind the doorframe.
“What happened?” His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that made Donata flinch.
Mia’s heartbeat quickened, and she felt uncertain. Why did her papa seem so different?
“She—she found it,” Donata admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mia stepped forward, her voice shaky. “Papa, I didn’t know—”
Her father held up a hand, silencing her. “Mia. Come here.”
She hesitated, glancing at Donata, who gave her a small, encouraging nod. Slowly, Mia walked toward her father. He crouched, leveling his eyes with hers, his expression unreadable.
“Mia,” he said, his tone low and deliberate, “you mustnevergo into my office again. Do you understand me?”
Her bottom lip quivered as she nodded. “But why?”
His gaze hardened, and that sick twist returned to her stomach, making her want to squirm. Her papa lightly touched her chin. “This room is not for you. It’s for my work. And my work isnotsomething you need to know about. Ever.”
