Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO CAME AT MIDNIGHT
The grandfather clock in the foyer struck eleven-fifteen.
Nobody in the dining room moved.
Rose’s words hung in the air like smoke.
Matteo did not look at his grandmother.
He did not look at me.
His eyes were locked completely on Sloane.
“Who is coming at midnight?”
Sloane shook her head.
Her pale champagne gown suddenly looked less like armor and more like a costume she had been caught wearing.
“Nobody.”
Her voice trembled.
“Rose is confused.”
Matteo stepped closer to her.
“My grandmother just told me a dead man is arriving in forty-five minutes.”
He lowered his voice.
“Is he?”
Sloane backed into the edge of the dining table.
The crystal glasses rattled.
“Matteo, please.”
He didn't blink.
“Who is your husband?”
Before Sloane could answer, the heavy oak doors of the dining room opened.
Everyone jumped.
It was the security chief.
He looked at Matteo.
“Sir. A vehicle just breached the lower service gate.”
The room erupted into murmurs.
Matteo raised one hand.
Total silence fell instantly.
“Breached?”
“The guard opened the gate for a delivery. A black sedan pushed through behind it. It's heading up the main drive.”
Sloane gasped.
She actually grabbed Matteo’s arm.
“Don't let him in.”
Matteo looked down at her hand.
Then at her face.
“Why?”
“He’s dangerous.”
“To me?”
Sloane hesitated for a fraction of a second.
“Yes.”
Matteo pulled his arm away.
He looked at his security chief.
“Let him reach the courtyard. Then lock the front gates. Nobody leaves.”
Sloane panicked.
“You can't let him inside!”
“If he is your husband, Sloane, he is already family.”
The coldness in his voice made my stomach drop.
He turned to the guests.
“Everyone will move to the west drawing room. Now.”
Security guards began ushering the thirty-one wealthy, terrified guests out of the room.
Grace stayed.
Rose stayed.
I stayed.
Matteo looked at me.
“Emily, take my grandmother upstairs.”
I stepped toward Rose.
She gripped her cane and shook her head.
“I am not leaving this room.”
“Nonna,” Matteo said.
“I was here when your father sent Daniel Mercer away. I will be here when his son walks through that door.”
Sloane’s head snapped toward Rose.
She looked absolutely horrified.
“You don't know who he is.”
“I know a liar when I see one,” Rose said evenly.
The sound of tires crushing gravel echoed through the tall windows.
Headlights swept across the dining room walls.
The car had arrived.
Matteo unbuttoned his suit jacket.
He didn't draw a weapon.
He didn't look afraid.
He looked like a man who was about to dismantle a bomb.
We heard the heavy front doors open.
Footsteps in the marble foyer.
Slow.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Sloane put both hands over her mouth.
The dining room doors swung wide.
The man who walked in was in his late forties.
He wore a dark, expensive overcoat that looked like it had been slept in.
His face was bruised on the left side.
He didn't look at Matteo first.
He didn't look at Rose.
He looked straight at Sloane.
“Hello, Rebecca.”
Sloane didn't answer.
She just cried.
The man walked slowly toward the long dining table.
Matteo stood in his path.
“You're trespassing.”
The man stopped.
He looked at Matteo.
He wasn't intimidated.
“I’m retrieving stolen property.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“My fiancée is not property.”
The man let out a dry, harsh laugh.
“I don't care about your fiancée, DeLuca.”
He reached into his heavy overcoat.
Security guards instantly raised their hands toward their holsters.
Matteo didn't flinch.
The man pulled out a small, worn object.
He tossed it onto the polished mahogany table.
It slid and stopped exactly halfway between him and Matteo.
I recognized it immediately.
A battered silver pocket watch.
It was identical to the one Matteo kept on his desk in the study.
Matteo stared at it.
His breath caught.
Just slightly.
“Where did you get that?”
The man didn't answer the question.
“She didn't tell you, did she?”
“Tell me what?”
The man pointed at Sloane.
“She isn't marrying you for your money, Matteo. She’s marrying you to stop me from finding him.”
Matteo frowned.
“Finding who?”
Sloane screamed it.
“Don't!”
The man ignored her.
He looked at Matteo.
“The boy.”
May you like
He pointed directly at me.
“The one that maid has been hiding for six months.”
