Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT STORM
We reached the ground floor just as the storm hit the coast with full force. Rain lashed against the high stained-glass windows of the foyer, rattling the heavy frames. Thunder rumbled across the bay, a deep, bass roar that shook the heavy chandeliers hanging overhead.
I burst out the side door into the driving rain, pulling Titan along with me as we sprinted across the slick cobblestone courtyard toward the gatehouse.
The wind tore at my hair, soaking my clothes through within seconds. Cold salt air filled my lung as I pushed open the heavy oak door of the gatehouse and slammed it shut behind us, dropping the heavy iron deadbolt into place.
“Rosie?”
Marcus came down the narrow stairs, holding a book in one hand and a mug of hot cocoa in the other. He stopped, looking at my soaked hair and pale face in horror. “What happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Pack your bag,” I gasped, wiping rain from my eyes. “Now, Marcus. Move!”
“What? Why? Rosie, what’s going on?”
“We’re leaving. Right now.”
I ran to the closet, pulled out my old canvas duffel bag, and began shoving clothes inside. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely work the zippers.
I had to get Marcus off this estate. I could handle VIPER, I could handle Marco, I could even handle Dante—but I could not let them touch my brother.
Before I could grab my coat, a shadow blocked the light coming through the leaded front window.
A heavy, deliberate knock echoed through the stone walls. Three slow, measured thuds.
Titan didn't bark. He walked to the center of the living room, lowered his head, and let out a long, terrifying growl that rattled the small glass panes in the window frames.
I picked up a heavy iron fireplace poker from the hearth, shoved Marcus behind me into the small kitchen nook, and stepped toward the door.
“Who is it?” I called out, my voice laced with venom.
“Open the door, Rosalind.”
It was Dante.
I unlocked the heavy bolt and pulled the door open six inches.
Dante was standing on the porch under the pouring rain. He wasn't wearing a coat. His white shirt was soaked through, clinging to his broad chest, his dark hair plastered against his forehead. Behind him, parked in the drive, was a single black SUV with its headlights cutting twin beams through the dark storm mist.
“You went to the third floor,” Dante said. It wasn't a question.
I stared at him, keeping the iron poker low at my side. “Your uncle and your cousin are planning to kidnap my brother tomorrow night.”
Dante didn't look surprised. He stepped onto the porch, pushing the door open gently with one hand. He walked into the room, his icy gray eyes sweeping over the packed duffel bag, then over Marcus, who was peeking terrified from behind the kitchen wall, and finally resting on me.
“I know,” Dante said quietly.
“You know?” I shouted, my control finally snapping. “You brought my brother into this house as bait!”
“I brought your brother here to protect him,” Dante said, his voice rising over the roar of the thunder outside. “Do you really think he was safe in your apartment on Fourth Street? VIPER’s men were already outside your building yesterday morning, Rosalind! If I hadn't sent Leo to pick Marcus up today, he would already be sitting in a basement down at Port Newark with a gun to his head!”
I froze, the iron poker slipping an inch in my wet grip. “What?”
Dante took two slow steps toward me. He didn't look at the weapon in my hand. He looked straight into my eyes with an intensity that felt like a physical weight pressing against my chest.
“My family is a nest of vipers,” Dante said, his voice dropping into a harsh, fierce whisper. “My uncle killed my father six years ago. He made it look like a heart attack, but I know the truth. He has spent six years systematically carving away everything my father built. Titan is the last piece. If he gets that chip, he takes control of the entire maritime network, and everyone who ever stood by my father will be wiped out.”
He reached out and laid his hand flat against the cold iron of the poker I was holding.
“Including me,” Dante added softly. “And including you.”
I looked at his hand, then up at his face. The cold, unyielding mob boss was gone. Standing in front of me was a man fighting for his absolute survival, backed into a corner by his own blood.
“Why didn't you just take the chip out yourself?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the wind. “You have surgeons. You have resources.”
“Because the encryption key requires the dog to be alive,” Dante said. “The microchip reads Titan’s biological vitals—his core temperature, his heart rate, his unique subcutaneous nerve patterns. If his heart stops beating, the chip instantly wipes its internal memory wiped clean forever. My father built it that way so VIPER could never just kill the dog and take the data.”
He stepped closer, his thumb resting gently against the side of my hand.
“Only a vet tech who knows how to keep a critically injured animal calm and stable under extreme stress can keep that chip readable,” Dante whispered. “I didn't bring you here to be a maid, Rosalind. I brought you here because you are the only person alive who can save my legacy.”
I looked down at Titan. The dog had walked over and was pressing his heavy head against Dante’s knee, his tail giving a single, slow thump against the rug.
I took a deep breath, let go of the fireplace poker, and let it drop onto the rug.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
May you like
Dante’s lips curved into a dark, ruthless smile.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, “we don't wait for them to come to us. We set a trap.”
