Chapter 6 - THE AGENCY FRONT
Nicholas didn’t yell.
His face was completely devoid of emotion.
That made it far more terrifying.
“Step away from my son, Dominic.”
Dominic froze.
He slowly raised his hands, pasting on a crooked smile.
“Nicky. Let’s not do something we’ll regret.”
“You’re right,” Nicholas said.
He fired.
The bullet struck Dominic in the right shoulder.
Dominic screamed, collapsing onto the Persian rug, clutching his bleeding arm.
I scrambled backward, pulling Ethan into my chest.
Nicholas walked into the room, his eyes locked on his brother.
Marcus and two other security men flanked him.
“Get him out of my house,” Nicholas ordered. “Take him to the warehouse. I’ll deal with him later.”
Marcus hauled the screaming Dominic off the floor and dragged him away.
Nicholas finally lowered the weapon.
He looked at me.
Then at Ethan.
He dropped the gun onto a side table and fell to his knees in front of us.
For the first time since I met him, the stoic, untouchable Mafia boss looked like a terrified father.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“No,” I whispered, wiping the blood from my lip. “We’re okay.”
Ethan threw his arms around Nicholas’s neck.
“Daddy. Uncle Dom is the monster.”
Nicholas closed his eyes, burying his face in his son’s shoulder.
“I know, son. I know. He’s gone. I promise you, he’s gone.”
I sat there on the floor, my heart still racing.
I looked down at my hands.
I was still holding the fake passport.
Nicholas pulled back and saw it.
He gently took it from my hands.
He opened it.
He saw the name. Claire DeLuca.
His jaw tightened.
“He was going to frame me,” I said quietly. “For kidnapping.”
Nicholas stared at the passport.
“Where did you get this?”
“In that coat.” I pointed to the beige trench coat. “It belongs to the driver from my nanny agency.”
Nicholas’s eyes darkened.
“Marcus vetted that agency himself.”
“The agency is fake,” I said, the pieces finally clicking together in my mind. “Dominic owns it. That’s why the rent was always paid exactly on time, why my sister suddenly got that scholarship. They were keeping me desperate, but comfortable enough to stay.”
Nicholas stood up, helping me to my feet.
“Claire, I am so sorry. I brought you into a war zone.”
“I’m just glad Ethan is safe.”
Nicholas looked at me, a strange, unreadable expression in his eyes.
“There’s something you need to see,” he said softly.
He reached into his breast pocket.
He pulled out a faded, crinkled photograph.
“Marcus found this in the safe in my wife’s room,” he said.
He handed it to me.
I looked at the picture.
It was a photo of two women, standing side-by-side, holding a baby.
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One of the women was Elena, Nicholas’s late wife.
The other woman was my mother.
