Chapter 6 - THE FAMILY HEIRLOOM
The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by Ella’s quiet sobs.
"Dad..." Ella whispered, staring at the screen. "Is that Mom?"
Nico’s hand shook as he lowered the phone. "I don't know."
He looked at Sloane. "You said Marcus was using you to steal bearer bonds. But Elena wanted revenge. If she's the one who faked her death to steal the trust, why is Marcus threatening to blow up the woman in the video?"
Sloane wrapped her arms around herself. "Because Elena double-crossed him. She took the trust money and ran to Geneva yesterday. Marcus is broke. He needs you to pay a ransom for Clara before he can afford to disappear."
I looked at the video feed again. The woman was terrified, but something was wrong.
"Mr. Falcone," I said softly. "Look at her neck."
Nico zoomed in on the grainy footage. Just above the collar of the woman’s shirt, a thick, jagged scar was visible on the right side of her neck.
Ella gasped. "The red coat lady."
"It's Elena," Nico realized, his voice dropping. "Marcus doesn't have Clara. He kidnapped the sister who betrayed him. He's trying to sell me a woman who faked her own death."
"But if Elena is in that chair," I said, the pieces suddenly clicking into place, "who was in the car that went over the cliff four years ago?"
Nico closed his eyes, a look of pure agony washing over his face. "Clara."
He had buried his wife after all. The twin sister had staged the accident, murdered Clara, and stolen her identity to drain the trust, only to betray her accomplice, Marcus.
Nico’s phone rang. It was Marcus.
Nico answered it, putting it on speaker. "You're a dead man, Marcus."
"Open the gates, Boss," Marcus's voice crackled through the speaker. "I want ten million in a wire transfer, or your beautiful wife goes up in smoke."
"That isn't my wife," Nico said coldly. "My wife is dead. You're holding Elena."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"You're bluffing," Marcus growled.
"Look at her neck, Marcus," Nico said. "You kidnapped the wrong twin."
Suddenly, a loud, metallic crash echoed from the phone, followed by a woman's scream, and then the line went dead.
Sloane gasped. "He dropped the phone. The bomb—"
"He's not at the gates," I said, recognizing the echoing sound of the crash. "That metal clang. It's the old service elevator in the basement. He's still in the house."
Nico reached into his jacket, drawing a sleek black handgun. "Take Ella to the panic room," he ordered me.
May you like
But as I reached for Ella's hand, Sloane suddenly lunged forward, grabbing a steak knife from the dining table.
"No," Sloane said, holding the knife toward me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a heavy, antique gold bracelet. Clara’s bracelet. "Marcus promised me a cut if I brought him the girl."
