Chapter 8
I had expected murder.
Kidnapping was worse.
Murder ends choices.
A stolen child creates them.
Every hour.
Every demand.
Every compromise.
I looked at Veronica.
“What did you want from me?”
She said nothing.
Gabriel did.
“Everything.”
“Be specific.”
“She never told me the final demand.”
“Preston?”
“He knows more.”
I turned toward my captain.
“Bring him.”
Preston entered five minutes later.
His shoulder was strapped from the terrace.
His arrogance had survived intact.
Then he saw Gabriel restrained.
It weakened slightly.
“What happened?”
Veronica looked at him.
“Say nothing.”
I smiled.
That answered one question.
He took orders from her.
“Sit.”
Preston remained standing.
One guard pushed a chair behind his knees.
He sat.
I placed the counterfeit Voss medallion on the table.
Then the black phone.
Then Gabriel's burner.
Three pieces.
Nothing legal.
Nothing official.
Still enough.
“Your sister wanted me at war.”
Preston looked at Veronica.
“She wanted Sofia moved after I left.”
Silence.
“Where?”
No answer.
I walked behind him.
“I have enough men to ask this slowly.”
Veronica's head snapped toward me.
There.
Not fear for her brother.
Fear he would talk.
I returned to my chair.
“Preston.”
He swallowed.
“Where?”
“Safe house.”
“Whose?”
He hesitated.
Veronica's voice cut across the room.
“Coward.”
Preston turned.
Something old passed between them.
Years of one controlling the other.
I recognized it.
Power leaves patterns.
He looked back at me.
“North shore.”
“Why take Sofia?”
“To control you.”
“How?”
“You'd stop the war.”
“No.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You'd do anything.”
“For her?”
“Yes.”
He was right.
That didn't mean they understood what anything meant.
“What would you demand?”
Preston stared at the floor.
“Voss gets pushed back.”
I waited.
“Gabriel gets command of three east crews.”
Gabriel looked surprised.
He hadn't known his reward.
“Continue.”
“Two clubs to me.”
“Continue.”
Silence.
I looked at Veronica.
“What did you get?”
Preston said nothing.
Veronica smiled.
Then I understood.
Not territory.
Not money.
Not a crew.
Me.
A man terrified for his daughter.
A man who could be guided by whoever claimed to know where she was.
“You wanted to become the person delivering the demands.”
Veronica's face finally changed.
Small.
But enough.
“You were going to pretend you were helping me recover her.”
Silence.
“You would control which messages reached me.”
Nothing.
“Which men I trusted.”
Nothing.
“Which enemies I attacked.”
Her expression hardened.
I leaned forward.
“You weren't stealing my territory.”
I almost laughed.
“You were stealing my decisions.”
Audrey covered her mouth.
Gabriel stared at Veronica like he had never seen her before.
Preston looked sick.
He hadn't known everything either.
That was her real plan.
Not to sit in my chair.
To stand beside it while I obeyed.
“Why?” I asked.
Veronica answered at last.
“Because men like you only understand loss.”
I stared at her.
“You think I needed to be broken.”
“I think you needed someone you couldn't ignore.”
“You had my attention.”
“No.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Sofia had it.”
There.
Not jealousy exactly.
Something colder.
She had spent two years watching every room change when my daughter entered.
Watching me leave meetings when Sofia called.
Watching men who feared me smile when she took my hand.
Veronica didn't hate a child because she wanted affection.
She hated what Sofia proved.
There was one part of me she couldn't control.
“You were never going to kill Sofia.”
She didn't answer.
Preston did.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“That was never the plan.”
“What was?”
“Take her.”
“Then what happened at the pool?”
Preston swallowed.
“Veronica panicked.”
Veronica stared at him.
“You idiot.”
He continued.
“Sofia heard too much. Audrey wouldn't move.”
“So she decided to kill both.”
“Yes.”
The room went still.
There it was.
The answer to the terrace.
They're still not dead?
The kidnapping plan had become a murder plan when the witnesses became dangerous.
But one question remained.
I looked at Preston.
“How did you know I would arrive at the estate when I did?”
His face changed.
Veronica's did too.
Gabriel looked confused.
Good.
He didn't know.
That meant there was another traitor.
Preston looked toward the hallway.
I followed his eyes.
Toward the man who had been standing outside every private conversation since I arrived.
My personal driver.
My oldest bodyguard.
Daniel Mercer.
May you like
He took one step backward.
And ran.
