THE SCARS SHE BORE, THE SECRETS THEY BURIED

“Your uncle?” I asked, stepping closer to the drawing. “The man who raised you?”

“Vincent stepped down five years ago and handed the family to me,” Gabriel said, pacing the floor. “He said he was tired. He said he wanted peace. But Marco has always been Vincent’s favorite.”

“So Vincent ordered the hit on your wife, and used Marco and Camille to execute it,” I pieced it together. “Why? Why not just kill you?”

“Because if I die without a clear successor, the Commission goes to war. But if I die after marrying Camille, and Camille is loyal to Vincent… Vincent controls the empire through her.” Gabriel looked at the drawing again. “And if they can’t get to me, they’ll use Sophie to force my hand.”

My blood ran cold. “They’re hunting her.”

“Yes.” Gabriel turned to me. “Elise, I have to go on the offensive. I have to rally the captains who are loyal to me before Vincent and Marco realize I know the truth. But I cannot take Sophie into a warzone.”

“You’re not leaving us here,” I said firmly. “If Vincent knows about this safehouse—”

“He doesn't. Only Enzo does. And Enzo raised me alongside Vincent, but Enzo hated Marco.” Gabriel pulled a heavy, black handgun from the safe and set it on the counter. “I’ll be back by dawn. Do not open that door for anyone but me. Not even Enzo.”

He kissed Sophie’s forehead, looked at me with a silent, intense gratitude, and left.

The heavy steel door locked behind him.

The next four hours were the longest of my life. I made hot cocoa for Sophie. I read her three books. I didn't sleep a wink, keeping my eyes glued to the security monitors.

At 4:00 AM, the monitor flickered.

A black sedan pulled into the alley.

My heart jumped into my throat. I grabbed the gun from the counter.

An older man with gray hair stepped out of the car. He looked battered, holding a bloody cloth to his shoulder. It was Enzo. I recognized him from the family photos Gabriel had in the estate.

He stumbled toward the door and hit the intercom button.

“Gabriel! Elise! Open the door! Marco’s men ambushed us!” Enzo coughed violently.

I hesitated. Gabriel had said not to open the door for anyone. But Enzo was bleeding to death on the steps.

I looked at the monitor. He was alone.

I unbolted the door and pulled Enzo inside, locking it instantly behind him.

Enzo collapsed against the wall, clutching his shoulder. “Thank God,” he wheezed. “Gabriel sent me. He’s pinned down at the docks. He told me to get you and the girl to the airstrip.”

“Let me look at your shoulder,” I said, moving toward him with the first aid kit.

“No time,” Enzo snapped, pushing me away. “Get the girl. Now.”

Something about his tone made the hair on my arms stand up. It wasn't the frantic panic of a loyal soldier. It was the sharp, commanding bark of a man giving an order.

I looked down at the hand pressing the bloody cloth to his shoulder.

Around his wrist, partially hidden by his bloodstained cuff, was a thick, leather bracelet.

“Mommy had that bracelet. The man in the dark car took it.” Sophie’s words echoed in my head from months ago, when she had pointed out a guard’s jewelry.

I stepped back, slipping my hand behind my back to grip the gun on the counter.

“Enzo,” I said slowly. “Where is Gabriel?”

Enzo stopped panting. He stood up straight, letting the bloody cloth drop to the floor. The blood was fake. His shoulder was perfectly fine.

He looked at me, his eyes dead and cold.