Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“One day,” I tell him, kissing the top of his head. “Now, get some sleep. You have school in the morning.”
He nods, his eyes already closing. “I’m gonna draw a picture of the tree,” he mutters.
“I can’t wait to see it.”
I kiss him once more, then tiptoe out of the room. I’ll be back in a few hours to go to sleep as well, but I tend to work in the living room to give him a chance to fall into a deep sleep.
I’m working on my laptop, applying to every job possible that will get my foot in the door with my degrees, when I hear some shuffling near the front door. The only person with a key to my apartment is my babysitter, Lisa, but she’s not scheduled to come by tonight.
There’s more shuffling, and I stand, wondering what’s going on. Maybe Lisa forgot something when she babysat for Damien.
“Lisa, did you forget—” I start, unlocking and swinging the door open.
Only, instead of Lisa standing on the other side, two men shove me back inside. They’re dressed in black with balaclavas covering their faces.
Out of instinct, I scream and then attempt to run, but one of the men catches me by my waist while the other man stalks past him, heading straight for my bedroom.
To Damien.
“Stop! No!” I yell, kicking and flailing about. “Let me go!”
The man tightens his hold on me, and I know I don’t stand a chance against him, but I refuse to give up. Reaching behind me, I try to claw at his skin. I kick his shins and try to elbow his chest.
“He’s not there,” the guy says, stalking out of the room just as the front door swings open and more men pour into the apartment.
Before I can get a good look at who they are, the man standing in front of me hits the floor. I glance down at him and spot a tiny red hole in the center of his forehead.
Holy shit, he’s dead.
I turn to see who killed him when my attacker lets go of me, falling to the floor as well. Then, I’m being swept off my feet and carried out of the apartment.
“Wait!” I beg. “My son …”
The guy said he wasn’t in there. How could that be?
Did someone take him?
“Dominick has him,” the man says, not stopping until we’re in a black town car and driving away.
The man who saved me places a call on his phone and says, “I have her. Two need to be cleaned up.” Then, he hangs up.
I want to ask him what’s going on, but my heart is pounding so hard in my rib cage that it’s hard to catch my breath. So, I focus on breathing.
In, out.
In, out.
When I’m somewhat calm, I glance at the gentleman, and despite his eye color being blue instead of gray, his features are similar to Dominick. Tanned skin. An angular jaw, covered with stubble. A Roman nose—but where Dominick’s is perfectly straight, this guy’s is a bit crooked.
“Dominick is my brother,” the man says, as if he can read my mind. “My name is Matteo Antonov.”
“How did you know …” I shake my head. “Your timing …” Tears prick my eyes as I imagine how scared my little boy must be. “I need to see my son. Please. Are you sure Dominick has him?”
“I’m sure,” he tells me. “We’ll be with them soon.”
“Where? Where are they?”
Now that my heart rate is somewhat back to normal, I have so many questions. “Who were those men? Why did they break in?”
And then it hits me. “You … you killed them.”
“It had to be done,” Matteo says. “Dominick will explain everything.”
The rest of the ride is silent. Matteo makes a few phone calls, but I have no idea what he’s saying since he switches between English and another language, which I think might be Russian. When he’s not making phone calls, he’s texting.
The moment I see the Coral Bay airport come into view, my stomach sinks. Dominick warned me that he was coming for Damien and me, and he did. And now, he’s taking us to Harbor Point.
Instead of pulling up to a terminal, the driver takes us around through another entrance and then, just like in the movies, drives us directly onto the tarmac.
There’s nobody else here, and my heart drops. I pray Matteo wasn’t lying and that Dominick really does have our son.
The second we step onto the plane, I scan the area, but he’s not here.
There’s nobody here.
I’m about to yell at Matteo, demand to know where my son is, but when I turn around, Dominick steps onto the plane with our son sleeping in his arms.
“My baby,” I choke out, rushing over to them.
I pull Damien out of his arms and hug my little boy tightly.