Chapter 1
“You called it a small punishment. Now remember mine.”
Agatha stared up at me from among shattered terracotta.
For once, my aunt had nothing to say.
Good.
Elliot mattered first.
I turned away from her.
My son was in Rafe’s arms beneath the shade of the terrace, still crying while the heart monitor chirped beneath his torn shirt.
“Water.”
Someone brought it immediately.
I took Elliot myself.
Small body.
Burning skin.
Too light.
That registered.
“How long was he outside?”
Silence.
I looked across the garden.
Capos.
Relatives.
Bodyguards.
Twenty people who had watched some portion of this.
Nobody answered.
Then a young groundskeeper whispered:
“Almost an hour.”
My grip tightened around Elliot.
Agatha finally spoke.
“He needed discipline.”
I turned.
“For what?”
Her jaw lifted.
“He refused lunch.”
Elliot buried his face against my neck.
I felt his answer before I heard it.
“She wouldn’t let me eat.”
The garden went still again.
Julian pushed broken wooden slats from his shoulders.
“He was whining.”
I looked at him.
Four years old.
Heart condition.
Hot sun.
No water.
No food.
Chain.
And my cousin still thought the important detail was whining.
The monitor alarm slowed slightly after Elliot drank.
Rafe crouched beside us.
“Boss.”
He pointed beneath Elliot’s collar.
A red mark beside the monitor clip.
Not injury.
Tape residue.
Several layers.
Someone had been removing and reattaching the device repeatedly.
I looked at Agatha.
“Who handles his monitor when I’m away?”
No answer.
“Agatha.”
She smiled faintly.
“Dr. Mercer checks it.”
My chest tightened.
Dr. Paul Mercer.
Family physician.
He had told me Elliot’s irregular rhythm had become more frequent during the last six months.
More alarms.
More restrictions.
More reasons Elliot supposedly needed to remain inside the estate.
I looked down at my son.
“Buddy.”
His eyelids fluttered.
“When does Aunt Agatha take your monitor off?”
His tiny fingers tightened in my lapel.
“For games.”
Every instinct in me went cold.
“What games?”
Elliot whispered:
“The strong-boy games.”
Agatha closed her eyes.
That was the moment I understood.
May you like
Today was not punishment.
Today was routine.
