Chapter 2 - THE MAN IN THE DARK
I grabbed Grace before the second scream ended.
“Behind me.”
“No,” she whispered. “Behind Evelyn. Your gun makes you louder.”
Under any other circumstances, I might have argued.
That night, I listened.
Evelyn moved beside Grace.
“Hand on my shoulder.”
Grace obeyed.
The cellar door opened slowly.
A shadow appeared.
I raised my gun.
“Dominic.”
I recognized the voice.
Marco Bellini.
My head of security.
“Password,” I said.
He answered immediately.
“Sofia hated yellow roses.”
Only six people knew that phrase.
I lowered the weapon.
“What happened?”
“Power’s cut. East gate is open. Danny’s down.”
“Dead?”
“Breathing.”
“Cameras?”
“Offline.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head.
“This wasn’t random.”
“No kidding.”
Marco stepped inside.
Then Grace suddenly turned her face toward him.
“Uncle Marco?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Why are your shoes wet?”
Nobody moved.
Marco laughed nervously.
“It’s raining.”
Grace frowned.
“No. The hall carpet is dry.”
I looked down.
Water darkened the bottoms of Marco’s pants.
He had come from outside.
Not from upstairs.
His hand moved toward his jacket.
I fired first.
The bullet hit the wall beside him as Evelyn slammed Marco’s wrist against the stone.
A pistol dropped.
Marco drove his shoulder into Evelyn.
She fell.
Grace swung her baton.
Crack.
It struck Marco’s knee.
He collapsed with a shout.
I kicked his gun away and pressed mine beneath his chin.
Marco stared up at me.
“Dominic, listen—”
“You opened the east gate?”
“No.”
“You cut the cameras?”
“No!”
Grace spoke.
“He’s lying.”
Marco’s face changed.
“How would you know?”
“Your breathing.”
Evelyn got back to her feet.
Marco looked from Grace to her.
Then he smiled.
“There it is.”
I pushed the barrel harder under his chin.
“What?”
“The reason they’re afraid of the kid.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Marco laughed.
“You still don’t know?”
“Tell me.”
“You spent your entire life thinking your father built the Caruso organization for you.”
My finger rested against the trigger.
Marco leaned closer.
“He didn’t.”
“What does that have to do with Grace?”
“Everything.”
A gunshot exploded from the top of the stairs.
Stone chipped beside my face.
Evelyn pulled Grace to the floor.
I fired upward.
Footsteps ran away.
I looked back down.
Marco had rolled toward his dropped weapon.
Grace moved before I did.
She kicked the gun away.
“Don’t,” she said.
Marco stared at her.
Then he began laughing.
“Your grandfather was right about you.”
Grace froze.
“My grandfather?”
My father, Antonio Caruso, had been dead for eleven years.
I grabbed Marco by the collar.
“What did my father know about Grace?”
Marco smiled through blood on his lip.
“The same thing Sofia died trying to hide.”
Then another shot came from upstairs.
This one hit Marco in the chest.
His body went limp in my hands.
I stared up the staircase.
Whoever had fired had silenced the one man who was about to give me answers.
Evelyn checked Marco’s pulse.
“He’s gone.”
Grace stood very still.
“What did Grandpa know about me?”
I looked at my daughter.
For once, I had no lie ready.
Then Marco’s phone began ringing.
Evelyn picked it up.
One word appeared on the screen.
UNCLE.
I had only one uncle still alive.
May you like
Vittorio Caruso.
The man who had raised me after my father died.
