Chapter 6 - THE CHILD'S DRAWING
The moonlight caught the cold steel of Dante’s weapon.
Harper tightened her grip on Leo, stepping backward until her spine hit the reinforced glass of the penthouse window. There was nowhere left to run.
“Put the boy down, Miss Callaway,” Dante said. His voice was completely devoid of emotion.
“Why are you doing this?” Harper demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. She subtly slid the child’s drawing into the deep pocket of Victor’s oversized coat.
“Business,” Dante replied, taking a step closer. “Victor is going soft. He spends too much time reading bedtime stories to his dead brother’s kid. The Russians offered me a seat at the table and Victor’s territory. All I have to do is hand you over.”
“You’re going to kill your own boss for money?” Harper spat.
Dante’s jaw tightened. For a fraction of a second, the emotionless mask slipped, revealing a deep, festering rage.
“It’s not about the money,” Dante snarled. “Victor’s brother, Julian, ran my wife off the road ten years ago. Victor covered it up to protect his family. Now, I’m taking his.”
Harper’s mind raced. Julian? The same crash that killed her mother?
“You’re lying,” a cold, lethal voice echoed from the hallway.
Dante spun around, leveling his gun at the darkness.
Victor stepped out of the shadows. He didn’t have his gun raised. He walked with a terrifying, absolute calm, stopping ten feet from his traitorous head of security.
“I trusted you, Dante,” Victor said, his eyes blacker than the room.
“You lied to me!” Dante yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger. “Julian was driving the car that hit Sarah! You paid off the cops to bury the report!”
“Julian didn’t hit your wife,” Victor said evenly. “The Russians did. The same men you just let into my building.”
Dante let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Nice try, Victor. But your lies won’t save you tonight.”
Victor slowly reached into his tuxedo jacket.
“Don’t move!” Dante roared.
Victor ignored him. He pulled out a heavy, antique gold pocket watch. The chain dangled from his fingers, catching the moonlight.
“Catch,” Victor said.
He tossed the watch underhand.
Instinctively, Dante reached out with his free hand and caught it, keeping his gun trained on Victor.
“Open it,” Victor commanded.
“This is a trick,” Dante sneered.
“Open the damn watch, Dante. Look inside the lid. Then decide if you want to pull that trigger.”
Dante hesitated. He flicked the latch with his thumb. The gold lid popped open.
He looked down.
Dante’s face went entirely slack. The gun in his hand wavered, dropping a few inches as all the air seemed to leave his lungs.
May you like
In the silence, the sound of the private elevator whirring to life echoed through the penthouse. The backup generators had kicked in.
The Russians were coming up.
