Chapter 4 - THE GOLD WATCH
Gunfire erupted from the west wing of the mansion, the sharp, staccato cracks echoing through the grand hallways.
Dante didn't hesitate. He scooped Leo up in his left arm, grabbed my hand with his right, and pulled us back into the armored SUV. But before the driver could hit the gas, the windshield exploded inward.
The driver slumped over the steering wheel.
“Get down!” Dante roared, throwing himself over Leo and me as bullets tore through the leather seats.
The heavy armor of the vehicle absorbed the worst of it, but we were sitting ducks. Dante kicked the back door open, returning fire into the darkness with deadly precision. Two men fell.
“Run for the tree line!” Dante ordered.
I grabbed Leo’s hand. The little boy was crying silently, a terrifying sign of a child who had seen too much violence. We sprinted across the manicured lawn, the cold grass biting through my shoes. Dante backed us up, his weapon flashing in the dark.
We reached the heavy oak trees bordering the property. The darkness swallowed us, hiding us from the flashlights sweeping the driveway.
We didn't stop running until my lungs burned and we reached a small, abandoned hunting cabin miles from the estate. Dante kicked the rusted door open and ushered us inside.
He locked the door, pulled the curtains, and collapsed against the wall.
That was when I saw the blood soaking through his white shirt, spreading across his ribs.
“You’re shot,” I gasped, rushing to him.
“It’s a graze,” Dante grunted, waving me off. He looked at Leo, who was huddled in the corner, clutching the child's drawing. Dante’s face softened. He knelt down, wincing in pain. “You did so good, little lion. I’m proud of you.”
Leo wiped his eyes. “Is Silas bad now, Papa?”
“Silas is confused,” Dante said softly. But when he looked up at me, his eyes promised absolute murder.
I found a first-aid kit in the cabin’s bathroom. I had patched up my fair share of bar brawls, so I knew how to clean a wound. I ordered Dante to take off his jacket and shirt.
As I cleaned the deep graze along his ribs, my hands shook. The proximity to him was overwhelming. His skin was hot, his muscles tense.
“You said Silas sold us out,” I whispered, pressing a gauze pad to his side. “Why did you look at your watch when the alarms went off?”
Dante looked down at me, his gray eyes searching my face.
“Because Silas gave me that gold watch for my birthday ten years ago. It’s an antique. It belonged to my father. Silas claimed he bought it at an auction.”
Answer One. Silas had the watch because he was the one who betrayed Dante’s father twenty years ago. Silas stole the bonds, blamed my adopted mother, and had been playing the loyal soldier ever since.
“He orchestrated the kidnapping of your son,” I realized, feeling sick. “Silas told Falcone about the bonds to start a war, hoping you and Falcone would kill each other so he could take over.”
“Yes,” Dante said quietly, his hand coming up to gently rest on my wrist. His thumb stroked my pulse point. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Elena. My wife... your sister, Isabella... she died giving birth to Leo. She made me promise to leave you out of our world. She knew Sarah wiped your memory to protect you.”
Open Two. If my memory was wiped, what exactly was I supposed to forget?
“We need to get to the train station,” Dante said, standing up and buttoning his ruined shirt. “We have to open that locker before Silas realizes we survived the ambush.”
We waited until dawn, then walked three miles to a rural train station. Dante bought tickets with cash. We boarded a commuter train headed back into the heart of Manhattan.
Leo fell asleep with his head in my lap. I stroked his hair, feeling an overwhelming, instinctive love for this child who shared my blood. My nephew.
When we arrived at Grand Central Station, the terminal was packed with morning commuters. Dante kept us close, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd.
We found the bank of old storage lockers near the lower concourse. Dante handed me the blue ticket from my necklace.
“It’s your family’s legacy, Elena,” he said softly. “You open it.”
My hand trembled as I found Locker 402. I slid the blue ticket into the automated slot. The metal door clicked and popped open.
I reached inside.
The locker was completely empty.
No bonds. No money. Nothing.
I turned to Dante, panic rising in my throat. “It’s gone. Did Silas get here first?”
Dante’s face darkened, but before he could speak, a cold, mocking voice echoed behind us.
“No, Elena. Silas didn't get here first. Because the bonds were never in the locker.”
We spun around.
Standing ten feet away, holding a suppressed gun aimed directly at Leo, was Detective Miller. And standing right beside him was my former boss, Marcus. The owner of Vespers bar.
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Marcus smiled, dabbing his previously "broken" nose with a handkerchief.
“Hello, Elena. I believe you have something of mine in your coat pocket.”
