Chapter 5 - THE GOLD MONEY CLIP
The words echoed in the small mudroom like a gunshot.
The kid is gone.
Clara let out a sound that wasn’t quite a scream—it was a visceral, broken gasp of pure agony. Her good hand flew to her mouth as the world spun violently around her.
Leo didn’t flinch. He didn’t offer empty reassurances. He simply tightened his grip on her arm, his physical presence acting as an anchor in the storm of her panic.
“Daniel,” Leo barked into the radio, his voice cracking like a whip. “Is there blood?”
“No blood, boss,” Daniel replied instantly. “Just a struggle. Looks like whoever was here left in a hurry.”
“Lock down a four-block radius. I’m on my way.” Leo shoved the radio into his pocket and pulled Clara gently but firmly to her feet. “Look at me, Clara. Look at me.”
Clara couldn’t breathe. “He took her. Vincent’s men took her—”
“No blood means she wasn’t hurt,” Leo said, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a fierce, magnetic intensity. “It means Mrs. Gable fought back or ran. You told me earlier Lily knows what to do in an emergency. Think. If Mrs. Gable had to run with her, where would they go?”
Clara forced her mind to work through the suffocating terror. She closed her eyes.
“If there’s ever a fire, or a bad man, we don’t run to the police station,” Clara had told Lily months ago. “The police ask too many questions. We run to the bakery.”
“St. Jude’s,” Clara gasped, her eyes flying open. “The old Catholic church on 5th and Elm. It’s closed down, but Mrs. Gable’s son is the caretaker. He leaves the basement door unlocked for her in case of emergencies.”
“Let’s go,” Leo said.
They didn’t take the chauffeured Bentley. Leo bypassed the garage and led her to a sleek, unmarked black SUV parked in the shadows near the service gate. He drove himself, the massive engine roaring to life as he tore out of the estate and onto the rain-slicked city streets.
The drive was a blur of neon lights and smearing wipers. Clara clutched her cast to her chest, whispering silent prayers to a God she hadn’t spoken to in years.
Leo drove with terrifying precision, taking corners at speeds that should have been impossible.
They skidded to a halt in the alleyway behind the crumbling stone facade of St. Jude’s. The rain was coming down in sheets.
Leo drew a heavy, matte-black pistol from a holster at his waist. He held up a hand, signaling Clara to stay behind him.
They approached the rusted metal door leading to the basement. It was slightly ajar, the heavy deadbolt splintered from the wood.
Someone had forced their way in.
Clara’s heart stopped. She pushed past Leo, ignoring his warning hiss, and practically fell down the concrete stairs into the pitch-black basement.
“Lily!” Clara screamed, the sound echoing off the damp stone walls. “Lily, it’s Mommy!”
Silence.
Then, from the far corner of the room, hidden behind a stack of rotting wooden pews, a tiny, terrified voice squeaked.
“Mommy?”
Clara dropped to her knees on the filthy floor.
A small girl with wild curls and tear-stained cheeks crawled out from under a pew. She was clutching a worn teddy bear and shaking violently.
Clara sobbed, throwing her good arm around her daughter, pulling her into her chest. She buried her face in Lily’s hair, inhaling the scent of cheap baby shampoo and damp cotton.
“I’ve got you,” Clara wept, kissing her forehead over and over. “Mommy’s got you.”
Leo lowered his weapon, standing in the doorway, the harsh light from the alley casting his face in shadow. He watched the reunion, an unreadable emotion passing through his dark eyes.
Lily peeked over her mother’s shoulder at the tall man in the doorway. She sniffled, pulling back slightly.
“Mommy,” Lily whispered, her small hands opening. “A scary man came to Mrs. Gable’s house. He kicked the door. But a nice man came and fought him. The nice man told us to run here.”
Clara wiped her tears, looking at her daughter in confusion. “A nice man?”
Lily nodded slowly. She held out her tiny hand.
Resting in her palm was a heavy, solid gold money clip. It was engraved with a very distinct crest: a roaring lion holding a sword.
The Castillion family crest.
Clara stared at it, her blood running cold. Only the highest-ranking men in Leo’s inner circle carried that clip.
“He dropped it when he fought the scary man,” Lily said innocently.
Leo walked forward. He gently took the money clip from Lily’s hand, turning it over under the dim light of his phone flashlight.
He didn’t look surprised. He looked furious.
“I know who this belongs to,” Leo said quietly.
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Reversal hit Clara like a physical blow. The man who had saved her daughter... was the man she had feared the most next to Vincent.
“It’s Daniel’s,” Leo said.
