Chapter 3 - The House That Was Waiting for MeChaos swallowed the mansion.
Men shouted.
Doors slammed.
Gunfire cracked through the night.
Dante grabbed Gabriel from my arms with one hand and pulled me behind him with the other.
“Stay down.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You don't understand.”
A bullet tore through the window beside us.
Glass exploded across the hallway.
Dante pushed me against the wall.
Two guards rushed forward.
“Rear entrance compromised!”
Another voice shouted.
“They know she's here!”
Dante looked directly at me.
“They came for you.”
My legs felt weak.
“How?”
He pulled a gun from beneath his jacket.
“I don't know.”
“Then someone told them.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Yes.”
That was the first moment I realized something even more frightening than being hunted.
There was a traitor inside the house.
Dante gave orders rapidly.
“Get Gabriel to the safe room.”
A guard approached.
Dante stopped him.
“No.”
The guard looked surprised.
Dante handed the baby to me.
“You take him.”
“What?”
“You calm him better than anyone.”
Another gunshot.
Dante opened a concealed door in the wall.
“Go.”
I stepped inside with Gabriel.
The door shut behind us.
The safe room was enormous, reinforced steel hidden behind elegant furniture.
Gabriel was shaking.
I held him close.
“It’s okay.”
His fingers grabbed my shirt.
His tiny face pressed against my chest.
I looked at the security monitor.
Dante was still outside.
He moved like a machine.
Calm.
Precise.
Terrifying.
But there was one thing wrong.
He kept looking toward the safe room.
Toward me.
As though he knew the real target wasn't himself.
It was me.
Twenty minutes later, the shooting stopped.
The door opened.
Dante stepped inside.
His shirt was torn.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow.
“Are you hurt?”
He looked surprised by the question.
“No.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“Asleep.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I expected relief.
Instead he looked at the security feed.
“One of my men is dead.”
I stiffened.
“The attacker escaped.”
“Did you catch anyone?”
“No.”
“Then how did they know I was here?”
Dante didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“You have to stop treating me like I'm stupid.”
His eyes met mine.
“I'm not.”
“You keep saying you don't know anything. But every time I ask about my sister, you look like you already know more than you're telling me.”
Silence.
Then Dante reached inside his jacket.
He placed an old envelope on the table.
My name was written across the front.
ELINA.
My breath caught.
“Who wrote that?”
“Isabella.”
I stared.
“That handwriting…”
“You recognize it?”
I nodded.
For some reason, the letters looked familiar.
Not familiar like seeing someone's handwriting.
Familiar like remembering a voice.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was one page.
Only one sentence.
If anything happens to me, find my sister before they do.
Underneath was a name.
Dante Moretti.
And beneath that was a date.
The date was nine months before Isabella died.
I looked up.
“She knew.”
“She suspected.”
“Suspected what?”
“That someone inside my organization was working with the people who wanted her dead.”
I read the sentence again.
“Why would she trust you with this?”
“I was her husband.”
I stopped.
“You married her?”
He nodded.
I looked at Gabriel.
“Then you knew she had a twin?”
“I knew she had a sister.”
“Did you know she was alive?”
“No.”
“Why didn't you tell me immediately?”
His expression hardened.
“Because I didn't know whether bringing you here would put you in more danger.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Someone just shot at your house because of me.”
“Yes.”
“So that decision didn't go very well.”
He stared at me.
Then he said something that made me freeze.
“When Isabella died, she left me one final message.”
“What message?”
“She said, ‘If you see Elina, do not trust her.’”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did she mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Did she think I was dangerous?”
Dante shook his head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
He looked toward Gabriel.
“She told me not to trust anyone who found the child.”
I frowned.
“The child?”
“Gabriel.”
I looked at the baby.
“She thought someone might come for him.”
Dante nodded.
Then he said something even worse.
“She also told me that if you ever appeared, Gabriel would recognize you.”
My skin prickled.
“How could she know that?”
Dante's answer was barely audible.
“Because she told me you had been carrying his scent since before he was born.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“No.”
He reached into a locked drawer.
Inside was a small velvet pouch.
He opened it.
A hospital bracelet.
Tiny.
Faded.
The name on it read:
BABY M.
And beneath it was a handwritten note.
Twin blood.
I looked at Dante.
“What is that?”
“It was hidden in Isabella's room.”
I touched the bracelet.
The instant my fingers brushed it, a sharp pain exploded behind my eyes.
A flash.
A hospital hallway.
Someone screaming.
A woman holding a newborn.
A little girl crying.
Then a man's voice.
“Take the second child. Now.”
I gasped.
The room disappeared.
I was back in the safe room.
Dante caught my shoulders.
“Elina.”
I stared at him.
“I remembered something.”
“What?”
I looked toward the door.
“A hospital.”
His expression changed.
“What else?”
“A man.”
“What man?”
I swallowed.
“He said…”
My voice trembled.
“Take the second child.”
Dante went completely still.
Then the color drained from his face.
Because he knew the voice.
“I know who that is,” he whispered.
“Who?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“My father.”
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