by Day Leclaire
“The Dantes—”
“We can’t help them right now. And my job is to keep you safe. That’s what I’m going to do and that’s what you’re going to let me do.” She opened her mouth to argue and he held up his hand, cutting her off. “Do you understand?”
This wasn’t the time to argue, she realized. “Yes, I understand.”
He nodded. “Move fast and stay low.”
She longed to protest. Her brother was in there, her sister-in-law. Nonna and Primo! Oh, God. Everyone she had in the world was in that ballroom, dealing with whomever fired those guns. She fought against tears, fought against terror and shock.
Snagging her around the waist, Ty opened the door just enough for them to slip inside. Pulling her into a crouch, he raced toward the balcony door. She looked over her shoulder toward the chaos centered in the middle of the room.
Men wearing ski masks and holding guns swarmed systematically through the crowd of partygoers, shoving people indiscriminately to the ground. Shots continued to ring out and to her horror she realized that Nonna lay on the white marble floor in a circle of blood, Primo half on top of her. He had a head wound, one bleeding profusely. Neither were moving.
“Primo!” The cry escaped before she could stop it. “Nonna!”
Ty swore and yanked her harder toward the balcony door. And that’s when she saw him. Gabe had his arms around Kat, holding her protectively. One of the gunmen seemed to be arguing with him.
For a split second, his gaze shifted, narrowing in on her. Time froze in that instant. And then the gunman turned his head, spotting her. With a laugh, he pulled the trigger of the gun he held and a shot rang out. Gabe jerked in reaction. Lucia jerked, as well, screaming in anguish, her knees giving out on her.
As though in slow-motion, Gabe fell, sprawling to the floor, a harsh black figure against a sea of brilliant white. With a cry, Kat dropped down beside him.
The gunman started toward her, his voice echoing across the chaotic ballroom. “Lucia! Just the one I wanted.”
Beside her, Ty swore, the word harsh and bitter. He yanked her to her feet and tossed her over his shoulder. Then he burst through the door to the balcony at a dead run. Lucia could only hang on, aware on some level she was sobbing and calling for Gabe. She retained only flashes of memory of Ty pounding down the steps and rushing out of the hotel. She finally snapped back into focus when he dropped her to her feet on the sidewalk outside of Le Premier, the chilly November air waking her to her surroundings.
Sirens sounded nearby, approaching far too slowly, their progress impeded by the remnants of rush hour crowding the busy Nob Hill streets. Ty’s gun had disappeared, no doubt tucked away where he could get his hands on it quickly, if necessary. He hustled her down the steep hill on California St. in the direction of China Town, helping her when her heels caused her to stumble, when shock had her legs threatening to give out on her. A trolley car rumbled to a stop at Powell, and he tossed her into one of the seats along the outside and stood directly in front of her on the running board, his massive height and width totally blocking her from view.
Neither spoke. She couldn’t gather her wits sufficiently to ask the endless questions ricocheting around inside her head, not when her fear for Gabe and Primo and Nonna edged out every other thought and consideration. She shivered, the cold creeping deep into her bones. She’d forgotten her coat at the hotel. The errant thought drifted past, like a scattered leaf blown helter-skelter before a frigid autumn wind.
Were they dying? Were they dead?
Tears pooled in her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks. Nonna had known. She’d known something was coming. Something bad. That her life would soon end. An endless litany of “if onlys” bombarded her.
If only she’d told the Dantes her true identity. If only she hadn’t been so afraid. If only she’d hugged Primo. If only she’d told Gabe she loved him one more time.
If only.
The cable car jerked to a stop and Ty stepped off the running board, offering his hand to help her down. “We need to get to your place so you can change and grab some things,” Ty said.
Lucia stared at him blankly. “Things?”
“They knew you, Lucia. The gunmen knew you. Either you’re one of them—”
Her mouth fell open in shock. “What?”
He nodded as though she’d confirmed something. “Or the gunmen were specifically targeting you. Until we find out which, we need a safe place to stay while the police sort this out. That’s definitely not your place, though we probably have a few minutes to grab some essentials before anyone thinks to track you down there.”
“Oh.” For some reason, she couldn’t get her brain to work. Everything felt muddled and confused. Out of focus and distant. She glanced around, as though expecting her apartment key to magically appear. When it didn’t, she offered Ty a helpless look. “My handbag is gone. My key is in it.”
“Okay. We’ll go to my place.” He glanced around, his mouth compressing. “Give me your jewelry. It’s not safe to walk around flashing that much bling. We’re just asking for trouble.”
Without a word, she stripped off the necklace and earrings, followed by the bracelet and wedding rings. She dumped the lot into his hand. He dropped them into his jacket pocket and then lifted his hand toward a cruising cab.
“Don’t say anything until we’re inside my house, got it?”
She didn’t bother to protest. Right now, she found it easier to do as instructed without argument. For some reason, she couldn’t organize her thoughts well enough to string a coherent sentence together, let alone the brain cells necessary for any sort of dispute.
The ride took far too long and gave her far too much time to think and speculate and worry. She also couldn’t seem to get warm, hard shudders ripping through her.
Ty stripped off his tux jacket and, once again, wrapped it around her. “It’s shock,” he murmured in a voice too low for the driver to hear.
He told her not to speak until they reached his place, but she had to ask. “Can we call and get an update once we arrive?”
“Definitely.”
“Thanks.”
Finally, the cab pulled up outside Ty’s house. He paid the driver and escorted her inside. Without a word, he steered her toward his bedroom and straight through to the bathroom. Without delay, he turned the water in the shower on high.
“Strip and get in. A hot shower should warm you up. I’ll fix coffee and make some calls.”
She wanted to refuse, but she shivered so hard, she didn’t see any point in arguing. “I won’t be long,” she said through chattering teeth.
“I should have an update by the time you’re done.”
Even removing her clothing became an almost impossible task, her hands refusing to cooperate with her brain. She let everything drop in a haphazard pile, the gorgeous spill of bronze against the pale stone tiles reminding her all too vividly of the spill of dark red blood against the ballroom’s white marble floor.
With a shudder, she entered the shower, the hot spray relaxing muscles she didn’t realize she’d clenched, and warming her to the point that the shaking finally subsided. Worry over her brother superseded her own needs, however, so she didn’t linger. After drying off, she snatched up Ty’s robe from the back of the door, fighting against a twinge of déjà vu. Knotting the sash, she made a beeline for the living room.
“Okay, thanks Juice. We’re going to stay here for now, but I’m concerned that we’re fairly easy to find. Also, Lucia’s missing her purse. Her apartment key and cell are in there. Ask around and see if anyone found it. If not, the police might want to stake out her apartment in case someone makes a run at her there.” He fell silent for a moment, listening. “Huh. Okay, I might take them up on that offer.”
Ty turned to face Lucia, his eyes narrowing with unmistakable heat at the sight of her. He might pretend indifference, but apparently that’s all it was. A pretense. Despite her fear and panic, it gave her some mea
sure of hope.
“I appreciate it. Let’s touch bases in an hour,” he said, concluding the call. Before she could even ask, he offered immediate reassurance, rattling off the facts in a brisk, calm manner. “I’m guessing Gabe is probably your primary concern. He was shot. It didn’t hit anything vital. Fortunately, the gunman has piss-poor aim. It’s a through and through to the shoulder. He’ll spend a night in the hospital.”
She didn’t bother to deny her first thoughts were of her brother. Relief hit hard enough that she sank onto the edge of the couch. It took a moment to gather herself sufficiently to speak. “Primo? Nonna?”
He hesitated. “Primo received a superficial wound to the head.”
Alarm shot through her. “And Nonna?”
“Not good. She’s in critical condition.”
Lucia covered her mouth, fighting tears. “She knew. She knew something would happen.”
He didn’t respond to her comment. Instead, he added a generous shot of bourbon to the coffee sitting on the table in front of the couch. Harsh lines bracketed Ty’s mouth and tension poured off him. He handed her one of the mugs and took the other for himself.
“We need to talk.”
“Could I call Gabe, first?” Instantly, Ty’s expression tightened and she hastened to explain. “I . . . I need to let him know I’m okay.”
To her consternation, he shook his head before she even finished speaking and she fought to control the hectic mix of emotions sweeping through her. Fear tripped over desperation, the remnants of shock combining with the impetus to act, all of which spiraled through her, winding her tighter and tighter.
“I can’t let you speak to him until after we talk. Right now, he’s getting patched up. Juice will tell him you’re safe and with me.”
One look warned of the futility of arguing. She’d left her cell phone in her handbag and couldn’t remember what had happened to either one, any more than she could recall where or when she might have lost them. The bathroom? The ballroom? The balcony or street? All of those were distinct possibilities.
Bottom line, she wouldn’t have access to a phone until he allowed it. She curled into a tight ball and cradled her coffee, taking a tiny sip. The bourbon burned a path downward, finishing the job the shower had started, sending a delicious heat racing through her.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to jump in with both feet, fighting to keep her voice even and free of the emotions surging through her. “You said you thought I was involved in the attack on the gala.”
He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, turning to face her. “It’s one possibility, considering the gunman knew you.” He held up a hand at her incipient protest. “I’ve mixed business and pleasure in the past and ended up betrayed. Pleasure turned into a setup that almost cost a young boy his life.” Dangerous shadows burned within his gaze. “Convince me you’re not a repeat of pleasure turning into a setup that’s going to cost lives.”
“I’d never do anything to hurt the Dantes,” she insisted. “I’d never put their lives at risk. Ever.”
“Why? What are the Dantes to you, Lucia? I’m not stupid.” He fixed hard and determined eyes on her. “It’s more than an employee/employer relationship. Explain what’s going on.”
She steeled herself. Time to come clean. She’d hidden her identity long enough. “They’re my family,” she confessed. “Gabe is my brother, not my lover. My twin brother.”
She’d shocked him. Honest to God shocked him. She’d find it amusing, if the circumstances weren’t so serious. “Your brother?”
“Primo and Nonna are my grandparents.”
Ty took a moment to analyze her words, then shook his head. “Primo called you his executive assistant, not his granddaughter. None of the Dantes said anything about the relationship.”
“Because they don’t know.” She buried her nose in her coffee cup, taking a deeper sip, needing the hit of bourbon every bit as much as the caffeine. “It’s a long, sordid story.”
“Let me guess. You and Gabe are illegitimate.”
She nodded, impressed by his insight. “You met Sev, right?”
“Dantes CEO.”
She nodded. “He and his three brothers are my half-siblings. Sev’s father and my mother had an affair. None of the Dantes knew about it until recently. And when they found out, we never told them there were two of us. Only Gabe.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Once upon a time, it’s all I dreamed of. Now, I’m not certain I want to be a Dante, anymore. Circumstances change. I’ve changed.”
He gave a slow nod. “Understandable you’d hesitate to chase an unfulfilled dream from your youth once you reached adulthood. Since the Dantes are unaware of your identity, I assume your father never acknowledged you?”
“No.” She hated opening the old wounds. Maybe she never would have if she didn’t consider it imperative he understand why she’d never betray the Dantes. “My father promised he’d leave his wife for my mother. Maybe he would have.” She shrugged. “Hard to say at this late juncture if it ever would have happened.”
“Why not?”
“He was killed in a sailing accident along with Sev’s mother not long after he’d made the promise, so I guess we can never be one hundred percent certain. The cynical part of me says he wouldn’t have left her.”
“And you went to work for Primo in order to get to know the family better without them being aware of the relationship?”
“Exactly.” She leaned toward him. “I’m not involved in this attack, regardless of what you might think. I couldn’t do such a thing. I wouldn’t put my entire family at risk. It’s unthinkable.”
His expression remained implacable, his thoughts hidden from her. “Or maybe you helped plan the robbery in order to get even with them for what your father did to you and your brother. The woman who betrayed me was the boy’s aunt. And yet she still attempted to use me to funnel info to the kidnappers for a share of the ransom money.”
Her breath hitched and her eyes widened in horrified disbelief. “You think I’d do such a thing when my brother and sister-in-law were in the room? You can’t seriously believe that?”
“No, I don’t.” Ty paused a beat before replying. “But the police might consider that a possible motive. At the very least, they’ll give it serious consideration.”
“I am not involved,” she repeated flatly.
“But you knew the man who shot your brother. Or he knows you,” Ty pressed. “He called you by name. That means there’s a connection there.”
She shook her head throughout his recital. “No. No. No! I have no idea who he is or how he knows me. I’d never be involved with someone capable of what he’s done.”
“But there’s a link,” Ty insisted in uncompromising tones. “You might not recall how right now, but when the police finally identify him, I guarantee. You’ll have had contact with him in some capacity at some point.”
She didn’t bother arguing. No matter how hard she fought the concept, his words made a hideous sort of sense. “So, now what?”
“For now, we sit tight. At some point, we need to speak to the police. Before that happens, I want to make sure you’re safe, and that means a secure location.”
She glanced around. “Isn’t this a secure location?”
“It’s as safe as I can make it. But a determined team, like the one that attacked the gala? They could breach the place without too much trouble.” He finished his coffee and set the cup to one side. “Juice is looking into a place for us to stay, one that isn’t associated with either one of us. You’re sure no one but Gabe knows you’re a Dante?”
She fought to get the words out. “Nonna knows.”
His voice gentled. “Nonna isn’t currently a factor.”
“I should have told them.” She bowed her head, the level of regret sweeping through her crippling in its intensity. “I should have told them who I really was.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything
.”
Her head jerked back up. “Not tonight, I realize that. But they could have been my grandparents during this past year, instead of my employers.” She set her cup aside. “I’d like to call Gabe now.”
Without a word, he passed her his cell phone. Gabe answered on the first ring. “Masterson?”
To Lucia’s horror, a huge, gut-wrenching sob choked her. It took her three tries to get her brother’s name out. “Gabe? Are you okay?”
“Oh, thank God. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice. Juice said you weren’t injured, but—” He ended the comment abruptly. “Well, no point in going there.”
“How are you?” Her voice rose, despite her attempt to control it. “I saw you get shot.”
“I’m fine, Lucia. Fine. A bit of pain.” He broke off with a rough laugh. “Okay, a lot of pain. But I’m okay. You?”
“Ty got me out of there right after you were shot.”
“Lucia . . .” Gabe’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The police are here.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“He knows you, honey. Somehow the gunman knows you. He was asking about you. He even knew we were related and demanded I take him to you. Then you came into the ballroom. The minute he saw you, that’s when he shot me. Lucia, he recognized you.”
Her fingers trembled and she tightened her grip on the phone. Ty slipped it from her hand and put the phone on speaker. “This is Ty Masterson. You’re on speaker. I’m here with your sister. Repeat what you just said.”
“The gunman knows Lucia by sight and by name, as well as my connection to her. He shot me right after spotting her.”
“You think he shot you because Lucia saw the two of you together?” Ty clarified.
Gabe spoke fast and low. “I think he shot me because it would hurt her. He said, ‘Now you’ll know how it feels.’ You have to keep her safe, Masterson. All but one of them got away.”
“The one who shot you escaped?” Urgency underscored the question.
“Yes. And the one they have in custody is in critical condition. They’re not going to get anything out of him for a while.”
