Chapter 2 - For several seconds, neither of us moved.My father stood behind the bars wearing a torn black shirt.
His face was thinner than I remembered.
His hair had turned almost completely gray.
A scar ran from his left temple down across his cheek.
But it was him.
Impossible.
My father had died eleven years ago.
I had seen his coffin.
I had watched them lower it into the family mausoleum.
I had carried his bloodstained watch for years afterward.
“Dad?”
The man stared at me.
Then he whispered:
“You shouldn't have come back.”
My gun lowered by an inch.
“How are you alive?”
He shook his head.
“Where is Grace?”
That was all I cared about.
He looked toward the scratches on the wall.
“She knew you'd find this room.”
My stomach tightened.
“You've seen her?”
He nodded.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
Three days.
My wife had been alive three days ago.
I stepped toward the bars.
“Where is she now?”
My father’s expression changed.
“They moved her.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the door.
My mother.
I turned.
Elena stood in the doorway.
Her expression was no longer calm.
It was fury.
“You were never supposed to find him.”
I raised my gun.
My father grabbed the bars.
“Luca, listen to me.”
My mother lifted her hand.
Several armed men appeared behind her.
The hallway filled with rifles.
I looked from the soldiers to my mother.
Then back to my father.
“Tell me the truth.”
My mother smiled faintly.
“You don't know what you've uncovered.”
“I know Grace was here.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“You imprisoned my pregnant wife.”
“She was a danger.”
“A danger to whom?”
My mother took one step forward.
“To this family.”
I nearly fired.
But my father shouted:
“Don't!”
My mother looked at him.
“You're still protecting him.”
My father laughed bitterly.
“After everything?”
I looked between them.
“What happened eleven years ago?”
Silence.
My mother said:
“Your father betrayed me.”
My father replied:
“She betrayed everyone.”
Then the lights went out.
Gunfire exploded through the corridor.
I dropped behind the stone wall as bullets shattered the glass lamps.
Men screamed.
My father grabbed the bars.
“Luca!”
I fired into the darkness.
Someone fell.
Emergency lights flickered red.
My mother was gone.
I sprinted toward the cell.
My father pointed toward the wall behind the bed.
“There’s a release mechanism.”
I found it.
A small metal lever.
I pulled.
The bars unlocked.
My father stumbled toward me.
He almost fell.
I caught him.
“How long?”
“Eleven years.”
“Who did this?”
He looked at me.
“Elena.”
My jaw clenched.
“What happened to Grace?”
He hesitated.
“She discovered something in the estate.”
“What?”
“The truth about your inheritance.”
I stared at him.
“My inheritance?”
He nodded.
“The Ferraro fortune isn't what you think it is.”
Before he could explain, the alarm began screaming.
Red lights flashed.
My father grabbed my arm.
“We have to leave.”
“No.”
“We can't stay.”
“Where is Grace?”
He looked toward the ceiling.
Then he whispered:
“They took her to the old chapel.”
The chapel sat at the far edge of the estate.
Abandoned.
Locked.
My mother had forbidden anyone from entering it since I was a child.
I started toward the corridor.
My father stopped me.
“Luca.”
“What?”
“If Elena realizes I'm alive, she won't just kill Grace.”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“She'll kill your child.”
I froze.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
COME ALONE. OLD CHAPEL. MIDNIGHT.
Under it was a photograph.
Grace.
Bound to a chair.
Her face bruised.
One hand covering her pregnant stomach.
May you like
And on the wall behind her, written in blood:
YOUR MOTHER HAS ALREADY CHOSEN WHO WILL LIVE.
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