Chapter 3 - THE BRACELET THAT BELONGED TO A DEAD WOMAN
Dante didn't flinch.
He looked at the gun, then at the woman he had asked to marry him three months ago.
“You’re holding that wrong,” Dante said smoothly.
Caroline’s hands were shaking, but her eyes were dead.
“It’s close enough to do the job.”
“If you pull that trigger, Rocco will have his hands around your throat before my body hits the floor.”
Caroline smiled.
“Rocco is currently asleep in the security booth. A little something I slipped into his coffee an hour ago.”
Dante’s mind raced.
If Rocco was down, the perimeter was compromised.
“You’re working for Julian Thorne,” Dante said.
Caroline’s smile widened.
“Julian sends his regards. He also wants his daughter back.”
Dante froze.
“What did you just say?”
“Oh, please,” Caroline laughed. “Don't look so shocked. You always knew your wife was unhappy. You just didn't know she was seeking comfort with your biggest rival.”
Dante gripped the silver bracelet behind his back.
“Sophie is my blood.”
“Julian disagrees. And frankly, it doesn't matter. Julian has the buyers in Palermo. A little girl with the Moretti name is worth a fortune to the European syndicates. A perfect hostage.”
Answer one: Caroline wasn't Julian’s lover. They were business partners selling a child to the highest bidder.
Open two: How did Caroline get his wife’s bracelet from the crash site?
“Where is she, Dante?” Caroline demanded, stepping closer. “She’s not in her bed.”
“You’ll never find her.”
Caroline cocked the pistol.
“I don't have time for this. The transport van is outside.”
Suddenly, a heavy ceramic vase shattered against the back of Caroline’s head.
She screamed, dropping the gun and collapsing to the hardwood floor.
Standing behind her, holding the broken neck of the vase, was Harper.
The twenty-five-year-old nanny was trembling violently, her chest heaving, but her eyes were completely fierce.
“Miss Harper,” Dante breathed.
Harper dropped the broken ceramic.
“I heard her,” Harper gasped. “I heard her tell the driver to pull up to the service gate.”
Dante kicked Caroline’s gun across the floor. He grabbed zip ties from his hidden closet safe and bound Caroline’s hands and feet before she could regain consciousness.
He stood up and looked at the nanny.
“She threatened your mother’s medical care tonight,” Dante said. “You could have let her take Sophie. You could have saved your family.”
Harper looked him dead in the eyes.
“My mother didn't raise a coward, Mr. Moretti. And Sophie is a good little girl. I protect my kids.”
Dante felt a profound wave of respect for the woman standing in front of him.
He held up the silver bracelet.
“Have you ever seen this before?”
Harper’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Your wife gave that to my mother.”
Dante stared at her.
“What?”
“My mother was your wife’s private nurse,” Harper said, her voice shaking. “Before the accident. Your wife gave her that bracelet to pay for my college tuition.”
Dante’s reality fractured.
“My wife didn't have a private nurse.”
Harper swallowed hard.
Then she reached into her apron pocket.
“Mr. Moretti... your wife wasn't in a car accident.”
She pulled out a crumpled child’s drawing.
“Sophie drew this yesterday,” Harper said, handing it to him. “I hid it from Caroline.”
Dante unfolded the paper.
It was a drawing of Sophie holding hands with a woman. The woman had a hospital bracelet on her wrist.
And standing behind them was a man with a massive scar across his face.
Julian Thorne.
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“She wasn't in a car accident,” Harper repeated softly. “Julian Thorne kidnapped her. And Caroline was the one who unlocked the gates.”
TITLE: THE CHILD'S DRAWING OF THE SCARRED MAN
