My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 586

Chapter 586

She slipped off Denise’s lap and crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the pole, she pushed lightly from the floor.

Her body rose in one smooth motion.

She curled around the pole like a ribbon caught in the wind, every movement precise, every line unmistakably shaped by years of ballet.

For a moment, she wasn’t a frightened young woman searching an unfamiliar city.

She was simply Gianna.

And everyone in the room smiled as they watched her fly.

Hazel stood beside the floor-to-ceiling window with both arms folded so tightly across her chest.

Chicago stretched below her.

Six months.

Six endless months.

Every lead had disappeared. Every promise had turned into another dead end. The photograph in her hand had become soft around the edges from how many times she had unfolded it.

Gianna.

Six months ago, someone had sent a message that Gianna had arrived in Chicago. That message had become the only thing keeping her moving.

Every morning she woke believing she would find her. Every night she went to bed having failed again.

Behind her, the office door clicked shut. Salvatore walked in without saying a word.

He stopped a few feet behind her. After a long moment, he slowly reached toward her shoulder.

The instant his hand brushed her sleeve, Hazel stepped away as though his touch had burned her.

“I don’t need comforting,” her voice was quiet but stern, “I need my daughter.”

Salvatore lowered his hand, “Hazel-”

She finally turned around. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but there wasn’t a trace of weakness left in them, only anger.

“You told me once that you owed me a life,” she snapped, “My father died saving yours,” she continued, “You looked me in the eye and said you would spend the rest of your life repaying that debt.”

“I remember.”

Her laugh was hollow, “Do you?” she lifted the photograph, “Because the only life I ever asked you to give back to me was hers. You told me we’d find her.”

“We will.”

“You said that six months ago.”

“Hazel-”

Salvatore frowned, “Then say it.”

The man swallowed hard, his eyes flicking toward Hazel before dropping to the floor. Telling Salvatore was one thing. Telling Hazel was another. She belonged to one of the Outfit’s oldest, most respected families. Admitting where he had spent his evening wasn’t something he was eager to do,

“A few nights ago…” he hesitated again, “I was… at a place.”

Salvatore’s eyes narrowed, “What place?”

The soldier looked thoroughly embarrassed, “A brothel. I was leaving,” the man continued carefully, “and I saw a young woman there.”

Hazel took one step forward, “How young?”

“Around fifteen, brown hair, and green eyes.”

Hazel’s fingers tightened around the photograph.

The soldier looked at her, “She looked…” he searched for the right words, “…she looked almost exactly like the description you’ve had us carrying.”

His eyes flicked toward Hazel again.

“And…” he hesitated, “She looked a lot like you.”

Salvatore spoke first, “Why the hell would Gianna be in a brothel?”

The soldier shook his head immediately, “I don’t know, Boss. I didn’t touch her, maybe I was wrong,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It could be nothing but I thought it was worth telling you.”

Hazel was already moving. She grabbed her coat from the chair so quickly it nearly fell to the floor.