Chapter 2 - THE PRICE OF A BOY'S LIFE
Dominic Vale had received envelopes containing ransom demands, photographs of dead associates, and threats written in blood.
But nothing had prepared him for his wife offering him a trembling envelope on an airport runway.
"Take it," Claire repeated. "Every dollar. Just let Eli go."
Dominic looked at the envelope.
Then at the boy kneeling behind her.
"You think I need your money?"
"No. I think you need a reason not to kill him."
The runway fell silent.
Vincent Mercer took one step forward.
"Claire, this isn't your concern."
She turned toward him.
"His father has worked for this family for eleven years. That makes it my concern."
Dominic slowly opened the envelope.
Thirty-eight hundred dollars.
A prepaid phone.
A car key.
He stared at the items.
The money didn't bother him.
Neither did the phone.
But the key had a small yellow dealership tag attached.
A used Honda.
Newark.
Dominic understood immediately.
His wife hadn't brought him money.
She had handed him the means of her escape.
"Where were you going?" he asked.
Claire's face drained of color.
"Please don't change the subject."
"Where, Claire?"
"Somewhere you couldn't find me."
The words landed harder than a gunshot.
Dominic looked at the woman he had married two years earlier.
He remembered her laughing barefoot in their kitchen.
He remembered the way she used to fall asleep against his shoulder during movies.
He remembered the last time she had kissed him without being asked.
It had been months ago.
And he had been too occupied with his business to wonder why.
"Everyone put your weapons away," Dominic ordered.
Frank hesitated.
"Boss, the kid—"
"Now."
The weapons disappeared.
Claire exhaled.
Dominic pointed toward Eli.
"Vincent, have someone take him inside. No one touches him. Get his parents somewhere safe until we know who's threatening them."
Vincent nodded.
But Frank looked furious.
"You're letting him walk?"
Dominic turned.
"Would you prefer I repeat myself?"
Frank stepped back.
Eli began crying harder.
"Thank you, Mrs. Vale."
Claire squeezed his shoulder.
"Go with them, Eli."
Two guards helped him stand.
Dominic waited until the boy was several yards away.
Then he looked at Claire again.
"Why are you leaving me?"
She couldn't answer.
Not here.
Not with Vincent watching.
Not with Frank close enough to hear.
Dominic noticed her glance toward his second-in-command.
"Vincent. Give us a minute."
Vincent hesitated.
"The flight—"
"Can wait."
When they were finally alone beside the aircraft stairs, Dominic lowered his voice.
"Did I hurt you?"
Claire looked at him.
"You really don't know?"
His expression tightened.
"Tell me."
She almost laughed.
For five months, she had prayed he would ask that question.
Now that he had, she couldn't bring herself to answer.
Because she remembered the first warning.
A photograph slipped beneath her bedroom door.
It showed Dominic standing outside a warehouse beside three men.
Two of those men were lying motionless on the pavement.
Written across the bottom were six words.
This is the father your child deserves?
She had been eleven weeks pregnant.
She hadn't told Dominic yet.
Two days later, another envelope arrived.
Inside was a photograph of her leaving the obstetrician's office.
Someone knew.
Someone had been watching.
And the final message had been unmistakable.
Tell your husband about the baby, and we'll make sure neither of you survives the delivery.
Claire swallowed.
"Your world isn't safe."
Dominic looked away briefly.
"I've never pretended otherwise."
"No. You've just pretended I could live inside it without paying the price."
His jaw tightened.
"Have you been threatened?"
Claire froze.
He saw it.
"Claire."
She stepped backward.
"Don't."
"Who threatened you?"
"Please, Dominic."
He reached for her arm.
She flinched.
Dominic stopped immediately.
For the first time in years, he looked genuinely frightened.
Not of an enemy.
Of what his wife had learned to expect from him.
"All right," he said quietly. "I won't touch you."
A sudden gust swept across the runway.
Claire's heavy coat shifted.
The loose maternity dress underneath tightened against her stomach.
Dominic's gaze dropped.
He went completely still.
Claire instinctively pulled the coat closed.
Too late.
"Claire."
She couldn't look at him.
"How far along?"
Her eyes filled.
"Twenty-one weeks."
Dominic took a breath.
Then another.
"Twenty-one?"
She nodded.
"That's over five months."
"I know."
"You've been pregnant for five months?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell me?"
She looked up.
"Because someone told me you'd be dead if I did."
Dominic's face changed.
The shock disappeared.
Something colder took its place.
"Who?"
Claire shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Show me the threats."
"I destroyed them."
"All of them?"
She hesitated.
And Dominic caught it.
"Claire."
Before she could answer, Vincent hurried toward them.
"Dominic, we've got a problem."
Dominic didn't move.
"Not now."
"It's about the tracker."
Vincent held out a phone.
"Our technician opened the casing. It wasn't transmitting."
Dominic frowned.
"Then what was it doing?"
Vincent looked toward Claire.
"It was recording."
Claire felt her stomach turn.
"Recording what?"
Vincent hesitated.
Dominic took the phone.
On the screen was a still image captured from the device's tiny camera.
A photograph of the runway.
Of Dominic.
Of Claire.
And beneath it, a message automatically uploaded to a remote account.
CONFIRMATION RECEIVED.
THE WIFE IS PREGNANT.
Dominic looked up.
"Who received this?"
Vincent's phone vibrated again.
A second message appeared.
This one contained a photograph.
Claire recognized the room immediately.
Her bedroom.
The picture had been taken that morning.
On her pillow lay a tiny white baby blanket.
And beside it was a handwritten note.
RUNNING WON'T SAVE YOUR DAUGHTER.
Claire stared at the screen.
She hadn't told anyone the baby's sex.
Not even her doctor had been authorized to share it.
Dominic looked at his wife.
"Claire," he said slowly, "how does someone know we're having a girl?"
She began shaking.
"Because whoever sent that message has been inside our house."
And then her prepaid phone rang.
Only one person had ever been given that number.
May you like
The caller ID displayed two words.
BABY'S FATHER.
