THE HAND IN THE DARKNESS

The darkness was absolute and immediate.

One second, the dining room was glowing with crystal chandeliers. The next, a heavy, suffocating pitch-black swallowed the room.

Panic erupted. Chairs scraped violently against the marble. Glasses shattered. A woman screamed near the head of the table.

But I didn't care about the guests.

My instinct took over. I dropped to my knees, reaching under the table for Noah.

"Ella!" Luca’s voice boomed through the darkness, cutting through the chaos. It wasn't the voice of a wealthy groom. It was the voice of a man who ran the Chicago underworld. "Nobody move!"

My fingers brushed the fabric of Noah’s suit trousers. I grabbed his small waist and pulled him tightly against my chest, shielding his body with my own. He was trembling violently, his little hands gripping my apron.

Because he was deaf, he couldn't hear the shattering glass or his father’s commands. To him, the world had simply vanished into darkness.

I have you, I tapped rapidly on his shoulder. You are safe.

Suddenly, the heavy velvet drape behind us rustled.

A rush of cold air hit the back of my neck. Someone had opened the terrace door.

Before I could turn, a large, heavy hand grabbed Noah’s arm.

The grip was brutal. It ripped the boy forward, nearly tearing him from my arms.

"No!" I screamed, kicking wildly into the dark.

My heel connected with something solid. A man grunted.

I reached out, my fingernails sinking deep into a thick, muscular forearm. I scratched as hard as I could, feeling skin peel away under my nails. The man cursed in Italian, his grip loosening just enough for me to yank Noah backward.

I threw myself entirely over the boy, bracing for a blow.

Then, the backup generators kicked in.

The chandeliers flickered, bathing the room in a dim, golden emergency light.

I blinked against the sudden brightness. The terrace door was closed. The space behind us was completely empty.

"Noah!" Luca was there in a fraction of a second, his massive frame kneeling beside us. His eyes scanned his son for blood, then snapped to me. "Are you hurt?"

"Someone tried to take him," I gasped, my chest heaving. "From behind the curtain."

"Darling!"

Claudia’s voice wailed from the other side of the room.

She was sitting on the floor, clutching her forehead. A thin trickle of blood ran down her cheek. "A man shoved me in the dark! He went out the front doors!"

Luca stood up, his jaw clenched tight enough to snap bone. He looked at Claudia, then back to the terrace door behind me. They were in opposite directions.

"Daniel," Luca commanded softly.

His head of security stepped forward, his hand resting on the holster beneath his jacket.

"Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. If a guest tries to walk out, break their legs."

"Yes, Boss."

As Daniel turned to leave, something caught the light near the leg of Noah’s chair.

I leaned down and picked it up.

It was a heavy, silver money clip. The metal was still warm from whoever had dropped it during the struggle. I turned it over in my palm, my breath catching in my throat.

Engraved on the back were three initials.

D. A. R.

Daniel Anthony Rossi.