Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE RED COAT
Mia was not with the babysitter.
That was the first good news.
The second was almost impossible to believe.
She had gone to a neighbor's house before the kidnapping attempt.
The neighbor's teenage daughter had seen a stranger near the house and convinced Mia to come across the street.
The stranger disappeared before Dante's men arrived.
Mia was safe.
But the attack had changed everything.
Claire spent the night sitting beside her daughter's bed.
Dante stood outside the bedroom door.
He did not enter.
Claire noticed.
“You can come in.”
Dante looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Fair enough.”
He stepped inside.
Mia was asleep beneath a pink blanket.
Her dark hair spread across the pillow.
Dante stared at her.
Claire watched his face.
She had seen Dante furious.
She had seen him injured.
She had seen him negotiate with men who were afraid to breathe around him.
She had never seen him terrified.
But he was terrified now.
He approached the bed.
Slowly.
He crouched beside her.
Mia stirred.
Her eyes opened.
She looked at him.
“Who are you?”
Dante froze.
Claire's heart pounded.
He looked at Claire.
She nodded.
“I'm Dante.”
Mia blinked.
“Are you Mom's friend?”
Dante swallowed.
“I used to be.”
Mia considered him.
“You look sad.”
He smiled faintly.
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I missed something important.”
Mia pulled her blanket higher.
“What?”
“Six birthdays.”
Claire looked away.
Mia didn't understand.
Dante stayed beside the bed for nearly an hour.
He didn't touch her.
He didn't tell her he was her father.
Not yet.
Outside, Claire confronted him.
“You can't disappear again.”
“I won't.”
“You can't make promises you don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“You don't know what being a father means.”
Dante looked toward Mia's bedroom.
“I know what it means to lose one.”
Claire went silent.
Dante's father had been murdered when he was eight.
“You never told me that,” she said.
“I didn't tell anyone.”
Before Claire could respond, one of Dante's men approached.
“Boss.”
Dante turned.
“We found the surveillance footage.”
They watched it together.
A woman in a red coat stood across from Mia's school.
Claire recognized her.
Her blood went cold.
“That's impossible.”
Dante looked at her.
“You know her?”
Claire nodded slowly.
“She was at my hospital six months ago.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Elena Voss.”
Dante's expression changed.
“Elena Voss?”
“She treated a patient in the ER. She introduced herself as a pharmaceutical representative.”
Dante stared at the screen.
“She's not a pharmaceutical representative.”
“Then who is she?”
Dante's security chief answered.
“Bellini intelligence.”
Claire felt sick.
“So she's been watching Mia.”
“For months,” Dante said.
“Why?”
Dante didn't answer.
His phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD.
Then another.
SHE ISN'T YOUR ONLY WEAKNESS ANYMORE.
A photograph followed.
Claire opened it.
It showed her.
Leaving the hospital.
Taken from across the street.
Dante's expression became murderous.
Then another photograph appeared.
Mia.
Then another.
Dante.
Claire.
Together.
The final message read:
WE KNOW WHERE YOU SLEEP.
Claire looked at Dante.
“What do we do?”
He stared at the photographs.
“We disappear.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Claire.”
“I'm done disappearing.”
She took the phone from his hand.
“They took six years from us.”
Her voice became steady.
“They don't get six more.”
Dante stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
Not the cold smile of the crime lord.
The old smile.
The one she remembered.
“That's my Claire.”
She immediately frowned.
“Don't call me that.”
“You're still angry.”
“I'm furious.”
“Good.”
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“Why is that good?”
“Because angry people fight harder.”
