Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY SEAT IN THE CAR
The silence in the dining room felt like a physical weight pressing against my chest.
Twenty-six wealthy guests stared at us.
Nobody lifted a glass. Nobody spoke.
Richard sat comfortably in his chair, turning my daughter's yellow ribbon between his fingers.
The same ribbon I had tied into Ellie's hair at seven o'clock this morning.
“Vanessa,” Luca said.
His voice wasn't loud. It wasn't a shout. It was a terrifying, dead calm that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
“What did you do?”
Vanessa’s face lost all its color. Her diamond earrings suddenly looked too heavy for her trembling neck.
“I just wanted to help,” she whispered, looking frantically around the table for support she wouldn't find. “Richard said Claire was being stubborn. He said if she just saw Ellie, if they were all in the same room together as a family, she would remember how good they used to be.”
My stomach bottomed out.
“You brought my daughter here?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Vanessa swallowed hard. “I sent Thomas to pick her up from the after-school program. I signed the authorization forms using the emergency contact papers from your employee file.”
I couldn't breathe.
My safe haven. The school I had researched for weeks. The routine I had built to keep Ellie hidden. Vanessa had handed it all to the man I was hiding from, simply because she thought my trauma was just a stubborn inconvenience.
Luca didn't look at his fiancée.
He turned his dark eyes to Daniel, the head of security standing near the heavy oak doors.
“Check the front gates,” Luca ordered. “Right now.”
Daniel immediately pressed two fingers to the earpiece hidden in his collar. He spoke in hushed, urgent tones.
Richard finally stopped turning the ribbon.
He looked annoyed. “This is exactly what I mean, Claire. You always make a scene. Vanessa was just trying to do us a favor. I met the driver at the school. I told him I was Ellie's father.”
“And where is she?” Luca asked, stepping closer to Richard.
Richard smiled. “She's waiting in the car. I told the driver to keep the engine running until I had a chance to calm Claire down.”
Daniel’s voice suddenly cut across the room.
“Boss.”
Luca turned.
Daniel’s face was completely pale. “Thomas's car just pulled through the south gate. It's coming up the driveway now.”
I didn't wait for permission.
I dropped the silver water pitcher onto the table. Water spilled across the expensive linens, ruining the elaborate centerpieces. I didn't care.
I ran toward the dining room doors.
“Claire!” Richard shouted, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stood up to grab me.
But Luca moved faster.
Before Richard could take a second step, Luca’s hand clamped onto his shoulder, spinning him backward and shoving him forcefully back into the chair.
“Daniel,” Luca said without looking away from my husband. “Lock the dining room doors. Nobody leaves this table.”
I burst through the grand foyer, my black maid's shoes sliding on the polished marble floor.
I threw open the massive front doors just as a black town car rolled to a slow, creeping stop beneath the portico.
The engine was idling quietly. The headlights cut through the evening darkness.
“Ellie!” I screamed, running down the front steps.
I grabbed the rear door handle and ripped it open, fully expecting to see my six-year-old daughter sitting on the leather seats, swinging her legs and waiting for me.
But the back seat was completely empty.
My breath caught in my throat.
I looked into the front seat. Thomas, the driver, was slumped over the steering wheel. A dark bruise was swelling on the side of his head.
“Thomas!” I cried, shaking his shoulder. He groaned, barely conscious.
Luca was suddenly beside me. He didn't hesitate. He pulled the driver back, checking his pulse and examining the wound on his temple.
“He was hit with something heavy,” Luca said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
“Where is she?” I sobbed, panic ripping through my chest like shattered glass. “Richard said she was in the car!”
Luca reached into the back seat.
He didn't pull out my daughter.
He pulled out a heavy, dark-green wool coat that had been crumpled onto the floorboard.
I stared at the coat.
My blood ran completely cold.
Because I knew that coat. I had mended a tear in its left pocket three years ago.
It didn't belong to Richard.
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It belonged to a man who had terrified me even more than my husband ever did.
“Claire,” Luca said softly, holding up the heavy wool fabric. “Do you know whose coat this is?”
