Chapter 5 - THE COAT IN THE RAIN
A scream tore from my throat, raw and agonizing. I lunged toward the door, my only thought getting to my baby, but Silas caught me around the waist. His grip was an iron band, halting my frantic struggle.
"Let me go!" I thrashed, hitting his arms. "They have Leo! I have to go!"
"Hannah, stop!" Silas spun me around, grabbing my shoulders. His dark eyes locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding. "If you run out there alone, you will die, and your son will be orphaned. Is that what you want?"
A sob broke through my chest, and my legs gave out. Silas didn't let me fall. He pulled me against his chest, supporting my weight while I shattered. For a moment, the fearsome mafia boss was just a man holding a terrified mother.
"I will get him back," Silas swore, his voice a low, terrifying vow against my hair. "They took him because they want me. This is my fault. And I will burn their empire to ashes to bring your boy home."
He gently set me in one of the leather armchairs and turned to Marco. "Tell me everything. Now."
"It was a surgical strike," Marco said, pressing a cloth to his bleeding head. "Three men. They didn't take anything else. But they left this on the kitchen counter."
Marco handed Silas a small, crumpled piece of paper. Silas unfolded it, his jaw clenching so hard I thought his teeth would crack. He handed it to me.
It was a child's drawing. Leo’s drawing. Crayon stick figures of me and him, holding hands. But across the back, scrawled in black marker, was a message: The docks at midnight. Come alone, Rourke. Or the boy pays for your bride’s broken heart.
"It's a trap," Marco said heavily. "Boss, if you go to the docks alone, it’s a suicide mission."
"It's my son," I whispered, staring at the crayon scribbles. "I'll go. I'll give them whatever they want. I have no money, but I'll work for them, I'll—"
"You will do no such thing," Silas interrupted, turning to his safe. He began loading a sleek black handgun. "You are under my roof. That makes you and your son my responsibility."
"Why?" I cried out, the desperation making me reckless. "Why do you care? I'm just a maid! Because you feel guilty about my husband?"
Silas slammed the magazine into the gun and looked at me. The intensity in his gaze made the breath catch in my throat. "Because you are the only person in this house who looked at my daughter and saw a child instead of a burden. You protected her tonight. Now, I protect yours."
He threw on a dark trench coat, checking his watch. It was 11:00 PM.
"Marco, lock down the estate," Silas ordered. "Nobody gets in. Put two men outside Sophie's door and two outside this office. Hannah stays here."
"I can't just sit here!" I pleaded, standing up.
"You have to," Silas said gently. He reached into his pocket and handed me a small, encrypted cell phone. "If I'm not back by 2:00 AM, press the speed dial. It will call my lawyer. He has instructions to transfer enough money into your account to disappear, along with Sophie. You will take them both and run."
He was trusting me with his daughter. With everything.
Before I could answer, he walked out into the pouring rain.
The next two hours were agony. I paced the office, clutching Leo’s drawing. The storm outside raged, lightning flashing through the tall windows.
At 1:15 AM, the encrypted phone buzzed in my hand.
I scrambled to answer it. "Silas?"
"Hello, Hannah," a woman’s voice purred. It was Maren.
My blood froze. "Where is my son?"
"Oh, he's right here. Very brave little boy. Looks just like his father." Maren laughed, a cruel, sharp sound. "Silas is here too. He actually came alone. How romantic. How stupid."
"Let them go," I begged.
"I don't think so," Maren whispered. "You see, Silas just found out the rest of the truth. He found out why Elena had that picture of your son. Ask yourself, Hannah. Why did my car hit your husband that night? We weren't fleeing a bridge."
I gripped the phone tightly. "What are you talking about?"
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"Elena didn't die in an accident," Maren hissed. "She was running away. From Silas. And your husband, the noble mechanic, was the one who fixed her getaway car. We had to silence him."
A gunshot rang out through the phone, deafening and brutal, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor.
