Chapter 4 - THE WHISPERING GHOST
The golden key felt like a burning coal in Chloe’s palm.
Mommy swallowed it. Before the bad man pushed her.
Chloe’s heart slammed against her ribs. The official story—the one plastered across every newspaper in Chicago ten months ago—was that Elena Rossi had been caught in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting outside a charity gala. A tragic accident.
But Leo hadn't just witnessed his mother's murder. He had witnessed an execution. And whoever did it, Elena had known it was coming. She had swallowed a key to keep it hidden.
"Leo," Chloe whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt on the plush carpet to be eye-level with the boy. "Sweetheart, what do you mean? Who pushed her?"
Leo's eyes filled with tears, but he didn't cry. He just wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the floor. The trauma was a heavy, invisible blanket suffocating him. He had spoken his truth, and now he was retreating back into his silent shell.
Before Chloe could coax another word from him, the heavy deadbolt on the mahogany door clicked.
Chloe instantly stood up, shoving the golden key deep into her apron pocket, and stepped in front of Leo.
The door swung open. Victor walked in.
He had shed his tuxedo jacket and untied his bowtie. The stark white of his dress shirt only highlighted the terrifying breadth of his shoulders and the dark, violent exhaustion etched into his face. He looked at Chloe, then down at his son.
"Is he hurt?" Victor asked, his voice low and gravelly.
"He's exhausted, but unharmed," Chloe replied, keeping her chin up despite the fear coursing through her veins. "Mr. Rossi, what is going on? Why did she want to kill him?"
Victor walked over to the gilded bar cart in the corner and poured two fingers of amber liquid into a glass. He didn't drink it. He just stared at the reflection in the crystal.
"Seraphina’s father is Alexei Vane," Victor said quietly. "He runs the ports on the East Coast. He wanted a merger. My territory, his supply lines. A marriage was the only way to solidify it."
"But why Leo?"
Victor turned around, his eyes locking onto hers. "Because in our world, blood is the only true currency. As long as Leo is alive, he is my heir. The empire belongs to him. Seraphina wanted to ensure that any child she gave me would inherit everything. She needed my firstborn out of the way."
Chloe felt a sickening twist in her stomach. "You knew she was dangerous, and you still let her near him?"
Victor’s eyes flashed with a sudden, lethal fire. He crossed the room in two strides, invading her space. Chloe held her ground, refusing to step back, shielding Leo with her body.
"I have five hundred men looking for a weakness in my armor every single day, Ms. Vance," Victor snarled softly, his face inches from hers. "I allowed her into my home to keep an eye on her. I never thought she would be bold enough to strike at my son in a room full of witnesses."
He looked down at Leo. The hardened mafia boss’s expression fractured for a millisecond. A fleeting look of profound, helpless grief washed over him.
"You saved my son," Victor said, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "You risked your life. Why?"
"Because he's a five-year-old boy," Chloe fired back, the maternal rage burning away her fear. "And he is terrified. He's drowning in this house, Mr. Rossi. You give him bodyguards, but you don't give him a father."
Victor flinched as if she had struck him. No one spoke to Victor Rossi that way and lived to tell the tale.
But before Victor could respond, the silver watch on the nightstand—which Victor had brought up from the ballroom—caught Chloe's eye.
"Mr. Rossi," Chloe said, her voice dropping. "If that watch was buried with your wife... how did it get out?"
Victor’s jaw clenched tightly. "I had my men exhume the casket twenty minutes ago. The concrete vault was cracked. The dirt was disturbed. Someone dug her up weeks ago. But they didn't just take the watch."
Chloe felt the blood drain from her face. "What else did they take?"
"A locket," Victor said grimly. "Elena wore a silver locket on the night she died. It was locked. Only she had the key. The medical examiner said she swallowed the key right before she was shot. I buried her with the locket. Now... it's gone."
Chloe’s hand instinctively brushed against her apron pocket. The golden key felt heavy against her thigh.
Mommy swallowed it.
Victor noticed the movement. His eyes narrowed, predatory and sharp. "What are you hiding?"
Before Chloe could decide whether to trust him with Leo's secret, a deafening explosion rattled the windows of the East Wing. The crystal lamps on the nightstands shattered.
Alarms began shrieking through the mansion. Gunfire—heavy, automatic gunfire—erupted from the floors below.
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Victor pulled a heavy Glock 19 from the back of his waistband. He grabbed Chloe by the arm, dragging her and Leo away from the windows just as the glass blew inward.
"Marcus," Victor growled, his eyes burning with betrayal. "He just opened the front gates."
