Chapter 10 - THE VOICE FROM THE PAST
The voice on the machine was metallic. Disguised.
“Dominic was just a pawn. The real debt hasn’t been paid. See you soon.”
Click.
Nicholas stood frozen in the foyer, Ethan still sleeping in his arms.
The warmth that had just filled the house instantly evaporated, replaced by a chilling dread.
“Who was that?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“I don't know,” Nicholas said, his jaw tight. “But they know about Dominic. They know everything that happened tonight.”
He carried Ethan upstairs, finally bypassing his old room and putting him in the large guest suite next to the master bedroom.
I stayed downstairs with Marcus, who had returned from dealing with the local precinct.
“Trace the call,” Nicholas ordered as he came back down the stairs.
Marcus shook his head. “Burner phone, boss. Bounced off a tower in Brooklyn, then disconnected.”
I sat on the edge of the sofa, looking at the silver rosary in my hands.
“If Dominic was just a pawn,” I said slowly, “then someone else orchestrated this. Someone who wanted Dominic to take over the family, but why?”
“Money. Power. The usual reasons people betray us,” Nicholas said bitterly.
The front doorbell rang.
It was 3:00 AM.
Marcus drew his weapon immediately.
Nicholas nodded.
Marcus approached the massive double doors, checking the security feed on his tablet.
“It’s a courier,” Marcus said, confused. “On a motorcycle.”
“At this hour?” Nicholas frowned. “Open it. But keep your gun ready.”
Marcus opened the door.
A man in a leather jacket and helmet stood on the porch holding a small, velvet-covered jewelry box.
He handed it to Marcus without a word, turned, and walked away.
Marcus brought the box inside.
He placed it on the coffee table in front of us.
“Bomb squad?” Marcus asked.
“No,” Nicholas said. “It’s too small. Open it.”
Marcus popped the latch.
Inside, resting on black satin, was a heavy, ornate gold necklace.
The pendant was shaped like a lion’s head, holding a diamond in its jaws.
Nicholas went completely pale.
“Sir?” Marcus asked.
“Leave us,” Nicholas told Marcus.
Once the security chief was gone, Nicholas sat down heavily in the armchair.
He buried his face in his hands.
“What is it?” I asked, moving closer.
“That necklace,” Nicholas said, looking up at me with haunted eyes. “It belonged to my father.”
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I frowned. “Your father? I thought he passed away twenty years ago.”
“He did,” Nicholas said softly. “Or at least, that’s what we were told.”
