The Stranger With Her Hand
Chapter 02 - The Stranger With Her Hand
Leah turned slowly.
The man beside her was in his early thirties, broad-shouldered and composed, with dark blond hair and the kind of calm smile that did not ask permission before making itself memorable. He introduced himself as Adrian Cole, a foundation trustee Leah had never met, and then glanced toward Dante as if the two men already knew exactly who the other was.
Dante had stopped moving.
Elena was still several feet behind him, watching the scene with a puzzled expression. The ballroom continued around them—glasses clinking, donors laughing, photographers moving between tables—but the air between Dante and Adrian had become strangely still.
Leah gently pulled her hand away.
Adrian did not resist.
“Sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you.”
“About what?”
“About him.”
Leah looked at Dante.
Dante's face had gone unreadable.
That frightened her more than anger would have.
During dinner, Adrian sat beside Leah because Elena had apparently decided she was finished pretending not to notice the tension. He was funny without being loud, interested in Leah's work without asking the usual questions about her connection to the Raviieri family. For the first time in years, someone spoke to Leah as though her life belonged to her.
Across the room, Dante watched.
He barely touched his wine.
Elena eventually leaned toward him. “You know you're staring.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to ask her to leave?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
Dante looked at Adrian again.
“I want to know why he's here.”
Elena's smile faded.
“You already know.”
Dante turned toward her.
Elena lowered her voice. “Adrian's father's name is Thomas Cole.”
Dante's jaw tightened.
That name meant something.
Leah noticed.
She had spent years learning to read Dante's smallest expressions, and the moment she saw his reaction, she knew this was not jealousy alone.
Later, Adrian asked Leah to step onto the terrace.
The Manhattan skyline spread beneath them, bright and distant. He leaned against the railing and finally told her the truth.
“My father worked with Bianca.”
Leah went still.
“Before I was here?”
“Before you knew what the Raviieri name meant.”
“What did he do?”
Adrian hesitated.
“He kept records.”
“What records?”
“Records Bianca didn't want Dante to see.”
Leah stared at him.
Before she could ask another question, the terrace door opened.
Dante stood there.
His eyes moved from Adrian to Leah.
“Inside.”
Leah frowned.
“I can decide where I stand.”
“I know.”
His voice was quiet.
“That is exactly what worries me.”
Adrian stepped between them.
“Dante, she deserves to know.”
Dante looked at him with a coldness Leah had never seen directed at anyone she cared about.
“Not from you.”
“Then tell her yourself.”
Dante said nothing.
Adrian reached into his jacket and placed a small envelope in Leah's hand.
“Your mother left something behind.”
Leah looked at the handwriting.
She recognized it immediately.
And beneath her mother's name was a date from the year before Leah had ever met Bianca.
May you like
She looked up.
Dante was gone.
