and white.
And for the first time in his adult life, Daniel Whitfield stood in front of 200 of Chicago’s wealthiest people looking completely utterly broken.
He rode with Maria to the hospital.
He didn’t care what anyone thought about that.
He held her uninjured hand the entire way, whispering things like, “You’re going to be okay.”
And, “I’m so sorry.
I should have seen this coming.”
Even though there was no way he could have known, or so he believed in that moment, because the truth was more complicated than a single act of jealousy on a balcony. At the hospital, while Maria was being treated, Daniel sat in the waiting room with his head in his hands.
And that’s when his assistant, a nervous young man named Charlie, approached him carefully.
Sir, there’s something you should probably know.
Before all of this happened tonight, Daniel looked up, his
