Chapter 6 - The Night They Came for Rosie
I moved Clara and Rosie into the safest wing of the estate.
Clara hated it.
Rosie thought it was an adventure.
“Are we hiding?”
“No,” Clara said.
“Yes,” I said simultaneously.
Clara glared at me.
Rosie giggled.
“Can Mr. Lorenzo have breakfast with us?”
“He has work.”
“I can eat and work.”
Clara stared at me.
“You don't have to keep entertaining her.”
“I know.”
That was precisely why I wanted to.
Something had changed after the wedding.
My house had always been quiet.
Now Rosie ran through corridors in socks, asked my guards inappropriate questions, and once decorated the wheels of my chair with pink ribbons.
Nobody dared remove them.
I attended a meeting with six dangerous men while wearing pink bows.
Nobody commented.
Smart men.
Clara discovered me in the library that evening.
“You kept them.”
“The ribbons?”
“Yes.”
“Removing them would create an international incident.”
She smiled.
It was the first time I'd seen her smile without fear.
Beautiful.
The realization irritated me.
“You should do that more often.”
“What?”
“Smile.”
Her expression immediately became guarded.
I regretted saying it.
Then she approached.
“Why didn't you marry Bianca for political reasons anyway?”
“Because I intended to love my wife.”
Clara looked surprised.
“Men like me aren't supposed to say that?”
“I didn't say that.”
“You thought it.”
“I did.”
I smiled.
Silence stretched between us.
Not uncomfortable.
Dangerous.
Her hand rested near mine on the table.
Neither of us moved.
Then the estate alarm screamed.
Every light turned red.
Enzo's voice came over the intercom.
“Security breach.”
I reached for Clara.
“Rosie.”
We ran.
Or rather, Clara ran while I moved faster than I'd ever pushed the chair.
Rosie's bedroom was empty.
The window stood open.
Clara made a sound I would remember for the rest of my life.
“No.”
A pink ribbon lay on the floor.
I picked it up.
My phone rang.
Adrian.
“Hello, nephew.”
“Where is she?”
“You always were quick.”
“If you touch that child—”
“Your father once said the same thing about you.”
I froze.
“What?”
Adrian laughed.
“Did Enzo never tell you how your father died?”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Car accident.”
“No.”
Enzo appeared in the doorway.
His face went pale.
Adrian continued.
“Your father discovered what I was doing. He planned to expose me. So I made certain his brakes failed.”
I looked at Enzo.
He closed his eyes.
He knew.
“You killed my father.”
“Yes.”
The confession came without hesitation.
“And Marco?”
“Too curious.”
“My ambush?”
“You survived. An irritating habit.”
“Rosie has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with it. Marco hid a second copy of his evidence. The child knows where.”
“She is five.”
“Children remember strange things.”
The line disconnected.
Clara collapsed against the wall.
I caught her hand.
“I will bring her back.”
“You don't know where she is.”
“No.”
Enzo spoke.
“I might.”
We turned.
He explained that Marco had owned an abandoned vineyard north of the city under a shell corporation.
Adrian had purchased the neighboring land six months earlier.
We left within minutes.
At the vineyard, I refused to remain in the vehicle.
Enzo gave me a cane.
Clara stared.
“You can't.”
“I can manage twenty or thirty steps.”
“You could permanently damage your recovery.”
“Then I'll recover twice.”
We entered through the cellar.
Above us, Rosie was crying.
I climbed the stairs.
Every step felt like someone driving steel through my spine.
Clara stayed beside me.
“Lean on me.”
“I don't need—”
“Lorenzo.”
I leaned on her.
At the top, we found Rosie sitting in a chair.
Adrian stood beside her.
He looked older than I remembered.
Not weaker.
Just emptier.
“Uncle.”
He smiled.
“Look at you.”
His eyes dropped to my legs.
“So that was your secret.”
Rosie saw me.
“Mr. Lorenzo!”
Adrian raised his weapon.
“Enough.”
Clara stepped forward.
“Take me instead.”
“No.”
Adrian smiled.
“Marco chose you well.”
“Marco despised you.”
“He despised everyone eventually.”
Then Rosie suddenly kicked Adrian's shin.
He flinched.
Clara lunged.
The gun fired.
I heard her gasp.
Everything slowed.
Clara fell.
I fired once.
Adrian dropped his weapon.
Enzo's men rushed in.
I didn't care.
I crawled to Clara.
Blood spread across her side.
“Clara.”
Her eyes fluttered.
“Rosie?”
“Safe.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She smiled weakly.
“Good.”
May you like
Then her eyes closed.
And for the second time in two years, I found myself begging someone not to die.
