Chapter 3 - THE NIGHT THE MANSION BLEDEmma's heart nearly stopped.
Find the girl.
She backed away from the hallway.
The mansion had suddenly become unfamiliar.
Every corridor seemed darker.
Every shadow looked alive.
She remembered Dominic's instruction.
Stay here.
But then she heard a crash.
Glass shattered downstairs.
A woman screamed.
Emma recognized Lucia's voice.
She forgot her fear.
She ran.
Pain exploded through her ribs, but she kept moving.
At the staircase, she saw two armed men entering the foyer.
Lucia was being dragged backward.
"Where is the girl?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
One man raised his weapon.
Emma grabbed the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall and threw it down the stairs.
It struck one man's shoulder.
He turned.
Emma ran.
"HEY!"
She sprinted toward the kitchen.
A gunshot cracked.
Something struck the wall beside her.
She screamed.
Then a hand grabbed her waist.
She spun around—
Dominic.
He pulled her behind him.
"Are you insane?"
"They had Lucia!"
"I told you to stay upstairs."
"I heard her!"
Dominic looked furious.
But beneath the anger was something else.
Fear.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
He touched her shoulder.
"Your ribs?"
"I'm okay."
"You're bleeding."
Emma looked down.
A small cut ran across her arm.
Dominic's face darkened.
He turned toward the intruders.
What happened next was fast.
Too fast.
Dominic's men stormed the foyer.
The attackers were disarmed.
One tried to escape.
Marco tackled him against the marble floor.
The other surrendered.
Silence returned.
Dominic kept his hand on Emma's back.
She could feel his heartbeat.
Fast.
Very fast.
"You were scared," she whispered.
He looked at her.
"I don't scare easily."
"You were."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he told Marco:
"Take them downstairs."
Emma's stomach tightened.
"Dominic."
He turned.
"What?"
"Don't kill them."
His eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because I want answers."
Something about her request surprised him.
He nodded.
"Fine."
The interrogation lasted two hours.
Emma wasn't supposed to hear it.
But the walls in the old mansion carried sound.
Eventually, Dominic came upstairs.
He looked exhausted.
"Who were they?"
"Kolov's men."
"What did they want?"
"You."
Emma stared.
"Me?"
"They believe you have something."
"I don't."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Dominic sat down.
"There was a file missing from my father's old records."
"What file?"
"Financial transactions."
"Why would they think I have it?"
"Because someone told them you found it."
Emma's heart stopped.
"I've never seen your father's records."
"I know."
"Then someone is lying."
"Yes."
Dominic leaned forward.
"Someone close to us."
Emma felt cold.
"Who?"
"We don't know."
Later that night, she couldn't sleep.
At 2:00 a.m., she went downstairs for water.
She found Dominic sitting alone in the dark dining room.
He had removed his jacket.
His sleeves were rolled up.
A glass of whiskey sat untouched beside him.
"You should sleep," Emma said.
"So should you."
"I can't."
"Neither can I."
She hesitated.
Then sat across from him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Finally, Dominic said:
"My father was murdered when I was twenty-one."
Emma looked up.
"I didn't know."
"Nobody does."
"What happened?"
"He trusted the wrong man."
"Kolov?"
Dominic nodded.
"Kolov was his business partner."
"What happened?"
"He betrayed him."
Dominic's voice became quieter.
"My father died believing his own brother had sold him out."
Emma stared.
"His brother?"
"Matteo Castellano."
"What happened to him?"
"Disappeared."
"Do you think he's alive?"
Dominic looked at her.
"I know he is."
Emma's stomach tightened.
"How?"
"Because yesterday I received a message."
He pulled a photograph from his pocket.
A man stood beside an old warehouse.
Older.
Gray-haired.
But unmistakably related to Dominic.
"That's your uncle."
"Yes."
On the back of the photograph was one sentence.
ASK THE HOUSEKEEPER WHAT HER MOTHER KNOWS.
Emma froze.
"My mother?"
Dominic looked at her.
"That's why they attacked you."
"My mother doesn't know anything about your family."
"Are you sure?"
Emma thought.
Then remembered something.
A conversation from years ago.
Her mother had once worked for an accounting firm in Brooklyn.
One client had been called Castellano Holdings.
Emma's breathing stopped.
"My mother..."
Dominic leaned closer.
May you like
"What?"
"She worked for your family."
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