by Shelly Bell
Odd that Tasha saw herself in the role of consoler when she’d barely managed as much as a hug over the years. If anyone had held her, it had been Roman. “My father would never have left me with you if he thought I was in danger.”
Tasha’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, but he did. No, he didn’t realize I was the one pulling the strings. I got a message to him through an associate of mine. It was either him or you. He thought by killing himself he’d keep you safe. And to a point, that was true. I had to wait until you either married or turned twenty-five before the trustee of the money could turn over the assets to you. I couldn’t even find out where he’d set up the account. All I knew was he had told DeMarco to keep the information in your mother’s jewelry box for you and that the password was engraved on your locket. Rinaldi and Michael both tried to get into DeMarco’s private residence, but of course, they failed. That’s when I thought about sending you.”
Danielle tracked the candle’s smoke as it snaked a path across the room to the window. Her pulse flew into overdrive, her brain finally making the connection between the acetone and the flame. Tasha wasn’t going to let her out of this house alive. A gun sat on the edge of the desk, blood on the handle.
That was the sticky substance on the side of her face. If she could wriggle one of her hands out of the rope, she might be able to reach the gun. She had to keep Tasha talking. “But even if I hadn’t shown up at Benediction, wouldn’t Cole have released the money to me since I’d turned twenty-five?”
“I couldn’t take the chance he’d hold onto it. All I knew from your father were the conditions of release. That trust kept you safe because if you died, the money was to go to charity.”
She twisted her wrists back and forth, trying to break free. “So you had yourself kidnapped and blackmailed me into finding the account. Why were you so sure I’d get into the room where he kept it? How did you even know about it?”
Tasha picked up the gun and cradled it in her palm like a fragile bird. “Rinaldi had kept tabs on him for years, and I’m guessing it worked both ways. DeMarco knew Rinaldi had something to do with your father’s death, but he couldn’t prove anything. Over the years, DeMarco would drop little hints, as if daring Rinaldi to make his move.” She ran the barrel of the gun down the side of Danielle’s face. “We knew he’d do anything and everything to protect you. He was as obsessed with you as you were with him. You walking into Benediction was like handing him his fantasy on a silver platter.” She sighed wistfully. “I was going to allow you to live, but unfortunately, you stumbled on a very important list. A list that in the wrong hands would shut down my organization.” With the gun in one hand, she raised the candle in the other and neared the drapes. “So I’m sorry to tell you this dear, but your world is about to go up in flames.”
Danielle yanked at the ropes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn’t die. “Don’t do this. I promise I won’t tell anyone, and you can destroy the flash drive. Just please don’t kill me.”
“Mother?” Roman strode into the room carrying a plastic shopping bag. Shock registered on his face as he took in the scene. “What’s going on here? Why do you have Danielle bound to a chair?”
“Roman,” Tasha whispered, her eyes wide. “You weren’t supposed to come home yet. The errands I sent you on should’ve kept you out of the house until this afternoon.”
His eyes narrowed on his mother. “I’d promised Danielle I’d bring her jelly beans. I was going to drop them off to her before I started on that ridiculous list of errands you made for me. But I don’t need to explain my actions.” He dropped the shopping bag to the carpet and shook his hands in front of him. “You’re the one who is standing there with a gun.”
“Roman, your mother was working with Rinaldi,” Danielle said, using the distraction of his arrival to work harder on the bindings. “She’s been behind everything from the beginning.”
Tasha’s eyes flashed with anger before she schooled her face into that of concerned mother. “Dear, she’s lost her poor mind. You’ve seen how depressed she’s been lately. She attacked me and pulled this gun out, and I was able to overpower her and tie her to the chair. I was just about to call the police.”
Danielle had to convince Roman she was telling the truth. He was the only one who could save her and the baby. “That’s not true. She told me she wanted us to marry because then you’d inherit the money when I died in an accident. She’s part of the Russian mafia.”
Roman’s expression hardened. “You told me we left that life behind when we left Russia.”
Tasha’s innocent mask melted away, revealing the dangerously angry woman underneath. “Oh, please. Where do you think all your business in Moscow came from?” She paused. “My brothers.” At Roman’s shake of his head, she sneered. “Yes, Roman. Part of you knows it’s the truth. Part of you has always known. It’s time for you to choose between the family who loves you and this whore.”
Roman gave Danielle a sad smile before turning his attention to his mother. “Danielle is not a whore. She’s my family. Not you.”
He rushed toward Tasha. A boom reverberated against the walls, and Roman’s eyes widened as crimson stained his shirt. Then there was another boom, this one muffled as if Danielle was underwater, and Roman crumbled to the floor, his blood flowing and flowing and flowing.
Danielle screamed, the sound of it foreign to her ringing ears, as if it was coming from someone else. “Roman! Oh my God. You killed him. You killed your own son.”
Tasha didn’t shed a single tear. “He made his decision,” she said coldly. “He’s no longer my son.”
Roman lay lifeless on the floor, his blood pooling on the carpet. How could a mother destroy her own child?
Danielle’s body shook violently. A sharp spasm wracked her lower abdomen, stealing her breath, and she tried to curl into herself, wrenching against the restraints.
Was she losing her baby?
Tasha was speaking, but Danielle couldn’t understand her, and it took a moment to realize her stepmother was speaking in her native Russian tongue. Danielle was helpless as she watched the woman she’d once called family lift the candle to the curtain and the fabric go up in flames. Billows of smoke instantly filled the room as the fire roared to an inferno of blazing heat. She coughed, her lungs burning as hot as the drapes, and another cramp squeezed her belly.
Her life couldn’t end this way.
She’d never gotten the chance to tell Cole about the baby. When he learned about her death and that of their unborn child, would he mourn them? Would he blame himself for not protecting them? She didn’t blame him. Not one bit. She should’ve stayed in Michigan, fought harder for their love, rather than give up on him and retreat into a shell like a turtle. She’d allowed life to pass her by when she should’ve held onto it as tightly as she could with both hands. She was a coward. Too afraid of rejection that she hadn’t even taken a chance. She’d thought her old life would keep her safe, but instead it would kill her.
A child’s face flashed before her eyes. A little girl with skin the color of café au lait and a gap-toothed grin that lit up her face. Her daughter laughed as her daddy sent them careening down the hill in their sled, her braids peeking out from under her pink snow hat.
Her child.
Cole’s child.
Another contraction wrapped around her middle. Danielle cried out, the pain of it almost unbearable, and tears streamed down her face.
Tasha pointed the gun at her.
Danielle’s laugh, nothing like her unborn child’s musical one, mixed with her coughs. At least she wouldn’t burn to death.
She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the shot. In her mind, she pictured Cole. His image was so vivid, she could almost smell him beneath the smoke. Hear his voice through the rumble of the flames. He was talking to her. Telling her to hold on. That he’d get her out.
Tasha screamed.
Danielle opened her eyes.
And Cole was th
ere, fighting with Tasha for the gun. His fist plowed into Tasha’s face, and the gun fired, its bang drowned out by the thunder of the blaze engulfing the curtains. Tasha flailed backward, the bullet’s force knocking her into the fire, and she dropped to the floor, the flames licking at her skin.
May she rot in hell.
Danielle opened her mouth to call to Cole, to tell him she loved him, to tell him about their child, but she could only cough, the smoke suffocating her. Spasms rocked her abdomen, one after the other. A heavy weight crushed her chest, and her throat constricted. Despite the bright flames, the room dimmed, swirling like a merry-go-round.
Suddenly, she was shrouded in warmth and floating as if weightless. The acrid air disappeared, and she sucked in a breath.
Her eyes opened to a soot-covered Cole looking down at her, the sun at his back. “Cole,” she said hoarsely. “Am I dead?
He cradled her face in his hands. “No, baby. I’m really here. Everything’s going to be fine. The ambulance is on its way.”
She scanned her surroundings, processing she was outside, in front of her house. How long had she been here? “Tasha tried to kill me. I found a list my father left for me in the music box. I sent it to you by email. It’s got everything we need to bring her Russian crime family down.” Feeling as though she was missing something important, she slowly sat up. “I just sent it to you a little while ago. How did you get here so quickly?”
He supported her with his arm around her back. “I was already on my way here from the airport. I told myself I was protecting you by giving you up, but you were right. I was only protecting my stupid pride. I’ve lived in a hell of my own making these last ten weeks. Even with my sight, I’m blind without you. So after Gracie spoke with Roman this morning about Michael and Rinaldi—”
She hurtled to her feet, stumbling with dizziness. “Roman is inside the den! He might still be alive!”
Cole’s head snapped up toward the house. Sirens sounded in the distance. He plunged his fingers into her hair and cradled her head in his hands, then kissed her hard on her lips. Before she could respond, he tore away from her. “I love you.”
He darted across the driveway and up the steps of the porch into the entryway. He turned and waved to her, then disappeared inside.
“Cole, I love you. Come back to me,” she shouted as the sirens’ wails grew louder. “To us. I’m pregnant.”
Searing pain rippled through her abdomen. Feeling a sticky wetness between her legs, she doubled over and fell to her knees.
She was losing their baby.
Glass shattered, and flames shot out of the den’s window, the fire spreading to the roof.
The ground tipped under her, and she toppled over, cracking her head on the pavement.
She’d lost everyone.
There was nothing left for her now.
She cried for Cole as the darkness stole her sight.
Chapter Thirty-Four
COLE LAY IN a hospital bed, all sorts of wires and tubes connected to him. Danielle sat in a hard chair beside him, the beeping of the monitor lulling her into a trance, her eyelids growing heavy as she continued to watch Cole’s chest rise and fall. She knew it was irrational, but she worried if she left him, something bad would happen. She couldn’t lose him.
The staff and her friends had all tried to get her to get some rest, but she’d refused, her butt glued to that chair by his side since her examination with the doctor. Eventually, they’d accepted there was nothing they could do to get her to leave, short of arresting her.
It had been forty-eight hours since the fire. He’d suffered from smoke inhalation and some second-degree burns, but he’d passed the critical stage, and the doctors felt confident that he was healing well. So why hadn’t he woken up yet?
“Danielle,” Gracie said, handing her a cup of coffee, “you need to get some rest. Why don’t you—”
“No.” Without looking away from Cole, she took the drink from her friend. “I have to be here when he wakes up. He’ll need me.” She took a cautious sip. “How’s Roman?”
“He’s worried about you.”
“Me? He’s the one recovering from bullet wounds, third-degree burns, and smoke inhalation. He’s the one whose mother tried to kill him.”
She still couldn’t believe Tasha had been responsible for everything. What kind of woman would shoot her own child?
Danielle wanted to be there to comfort Roman, but as hard as she tried to convince herself to go down the hall and see him, she couldn’t. Not until Cole opened his eyes and she made certain he knew about the baby.
Even if Cole didn’t want her and his child, she needed him to know how she felt. He deserved to know how much she loved him and that out of their love, they’d created a life.
Gracie dragged a chair next to Danielle and plopped herself down. “At least he’s allowing the hospital staff to take care of him. Since you saw the doctor a couple of days ago and received the IV for rehydration, you haven’t done a single thing to take care of yourself. You need to eat something and get some rest.”
“I can’t leave him, Gracie,” she said hoarsely, tears blurring her vision. She rubbed her eyes. “What if I leave and something happens to him? What if I have one chance to tell him how much I love him and I miss it?”
“How much do you love me?” she heard Cole whisper.
She blinked away the tears to see Cole had opened his eyes. “Cole!” She jumped up from the chair and leaned over him. “I love you. I love you so much I could spend every second of every day telling you I love you, and it still wouldn’t come close to the amount of love I feel for you.” She caressed his cheek with her trembling fingers. “You’re awake.”
“What happened?” he asked, his brows furrowed.
“You ran back into the burning house and carried Roman out. You’re a hero.”
Gracie stood. “He’s recovering a few rooms down from here. I’m going to go tell him you’re awake and that Danielle will be visiting him soon.”
Needing to be closer to Cole, Danielle lowered the side rail and sat on the edge of the bed. “From my phone, I e-mailed Agent Miller the file I found. He’s going to work with Interpol on it. And he told me that thanks to Logan, they were able to locate and seize the money Rinaldi had wired. They’re still working on identifying the owner of the accounts, but I’m guessing they’ll match the names in my father’s file. I told Agent Miller that once they no longer require the fifty million as evidence, they should donate it to a research and treatment association for the visually impaired.”
He placed his hand on her thigh. “I remember something. You were shouting to me as I went inside for Roman. I could’ve sworn you said something about a baby. Danielle, are you pregnant?”
Her chest tightened, and she burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I’ve been extremely hormonal.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, Cole. I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.”
The beeping of his monitor accelerated.
She covered her belly. “I had some cramping and bleeding from the stress of the ordeal with Tasha, but the doctors here did an ultrasound, and the baby is fine. I’m ten weeks along, and she’s growing perfectly. I know you don’t want children—”
“Danielle?” He yanked his oxygen tube from his nose and ripped the wires from his chest. Then he sat up and hoisted his legs over the side before dropping to his knees in front of her. “Eight years ago, I set my eyes on the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was too young for me then, and circumstances kept us apart, but she was never far from my thoughts. I watched from a distance as she bloomed, dreaming about a life I could have with her if only things were different. Then one day, her application landed on my desk, and I realized I’d finally have the chance to touch her and have her in my life, even if it was only temporary. But I didn’t want to show her how much I cared, so I tried to intimidate her that first day and push her past her comfort zon
e.” He smiled. “She met every challenge I threw at her. Every minute I spent with her, I fell deeper in love, but I let my fear keep me from giving her all of me.”
She fell to her own knees and took his hands as he continued. “These last weeks without you have been hell, and I never want to go another day without you again. So even though I don’t deserve you, I’m asking . . . Danielle, will you marry me?”
A nurse ran into the room. “Sir, are you okay? Our monitors indicated you flat-lined.”
“I’m alive right now, but if the love of my life refuses my marriage proposal, she’ll break my heart.”
Her pregnancy hormones were working overtime, and the waterworks started again. “Are you sure you want to marry me? It’s not just because I’m pregnant?”
“The baby is just a bonus. I love you, and I love the child growing inside of you. Say yes, Danielle.”
She smiled. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
Epilogue
INHALING THE SCENT of freshly cut grass, Danielle rested her e-reader on her rounded belly and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. The birds sang, and the breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. It was so peaceful out here right now. Too bad it wouldn’t last.
After all those years of living a solitary life, she wasn’t used to having people around her all the time. And not just people, but friends. Cole had assigned Gracie to serve as Danielle’s private bodyguard, a task the woman took way too seriously considering the threat to her life was gone. But Cole insisted, overprotective of not only her, but their baby girl, who’d make her entrance into the world in only a few short months.
Until the new house was built, the only privacy Danielle could get outside of her bedroom was here inside the gazebo. Because it was on the grounds, she could leave Gracie behind and enjoy the peace and quiet. Both a blessing and a curse, there was never a dull moment at Benediction.
