THE SCARS SHE BORE, THE SECRETS THEY BURIED

“We have to go,” Gabriel whispered, grabbing the cashmere coat and shoving it into a duffel bag from the floor.

I bolted toward the back exit where the SUV was parked. Gabriel was right behind me. We slipped into the rainy alley just as the front doors of the warehouse slammed open, Marco’s heavy footsteps echoing on the concrete.

We threw ourselves into the SUV. Gabriel started the engine and tore out of the alley with the headlights off, not flicking them on until we hit the main avenue.

In the back seat, Sophie stirred but didn’t wake.

My heart was hammering against my ribs. “Gabriel, why would Camille’s necklace be pinned inside your dead wife’s bloody coat? You said you bought it for her a year ago. Elena died three years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “But Camille knew Marco had the coat. She must have pinned it there recently. As collateral.”

“Collateral for what?”

“To blackmail Marco. Or to frame him.” Gabriel took a sharp turn, heading toward the industrial district. “We’re not going back to the estate. We’re going to a safehouse I own under a shell company. Only two people know it exists. Me, and my oldest captain, Enzo.”

We arrived at a nondescript brick building. Inside, it was a fortress. Steel doors, reinforced windows, and a fully stocked kitchen and armory.

Gabriel laid the bloody coat on the kitchen island under the bright fluorescent lights.

I looked closely at the emerald pendant. I reached out and unclasped it from the lining. The metal was heavy, expensive. But as I turned it over, I noticed something odd about the back of the setting.

“There’s a seam here,” I said, pressing my fingernail into a tiny groove on the gold backing.

It popped open with a small click.

It wasn't just a pendant. It was a microscopic flash drive.

Gabriel stared at it, stunned. He quickly pulled a laptop from the safehouse desk, plugged the drive in, and opened the single audio file stored inside.

A voice filled the room. It was Camille, speaking in a hushed, panicked tone.

“I did what you asked, Marco. I switched the brakes on Elena’s car. I made sure she took the canyon road. But she didn't burn in the crash. She crawled out.”

Then, Marco’s voice, cold and terrifying.

“I know she crawled out, Camille. Because I was waiting at the bottom of the embankment. I finished it. Now, you’re going to get close to my brother. You’re going to marry him, and when the time is right, you’re going to slip the poison into his drink. If you don't, I’ll tell him you cut his wife’s brakes.”

The recording clicked off.

The silence in the safehouse was absolute.

Gabriel staggered back, hitting the refrigerator. He pressed his hands over his face. A raw, guttural sound tore from his throat. His own brother had murdered his wife. And his fiancée had orchestrated it.

I stood frozen. I had thought Camille was just a cruel, vain woman. I had no idea she was a murderer.

Suddenly, Sophie walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She was holding a small, crumpled drawing she had made at the engagement dinner.

“Daddy? Why are you crying?”

Gabriel instantly dropped to his knees, wiping his face, forcing a smile for his daughter. “I’m okay, bambina. Daddy just bumped his arm.”

Sophie walked over and handed him the drawing. “I made this for you at dinner. But Camille tried to take it away.”

Gabriel took the paper. I looked over his shoulder.

It was a drawing of a man in a dark suit standing next to a black car. In the man’s hand was a distinctive silver cane with a wolf’s head handle.

Gabriel froze.

“Sophie,” Gabriel whispered. “Why did you draw this man?”

“Because he was the one talking to Camille in the garden yesterday,” Sophie said simply. “He told her to hurry up and find the watch, or he would hurt me.”

Gabriel looked at me, the color draining from his face.