Chapter 1 - Twenty-Three Marble Steps
The suitcase ripped my hand from the railing, and the first thing Vanessa Sterling screamed was, "Don't break the lock!"
Not, Are you hurt? Not, Is the baby all right?
I was seven months pregnant, halfway down twenty-three marble steps, with a hard knot of pain tightening across my stomach. The black suitcase struck another step. Metal rattled inside it. I caught myself against the wall, terrified that my daughter would pay for a fall I couldn't stop.
"Please," I whispered. "I need to sit down."
Vanessa's diamonds flashed as she leaned over the landing. "You can sit after it's in the garage. Vincent will be home any minute."
"Then let one of the guards carry it."
"I said no. And if he asks, these are your things."
I knew what losing this job meant. My husband, Daniel Bennett, had died before I learned I was pregnant. I cleaned rooms at the Moretti estate to keep my apartment and pay for prenatal care. Vanessa knew every bill I worried about. She used them like a leash.
I tried to pull the suitcase one more step. My knee buckled. A sharp cry escaped me.
"What the hell is happening?"
Vincent Moretti stood in the entrance hall, his black coat open, his briefcase already falling from his hand. People called him the most dangerous man in Chicago. I had only known him as the man who made sure I was never assigned heavy lifting. Now he took the stairs two at a time.
He caught my elbow before I fell. "Clara. Look at me. Are you bleeding?"
"No. But it hurts."
"Rafael! Call an ambulance. Tell them she's twenty-nine weeks along." His security chief was moving before Vincent finished speaking.
Vanessa smiled. "She's being dramatic. She insisted on helping."
Vincent didn't raise his voice. "Clara, did you volunteer?"
I shook my head.
He helped me onto a bench, then went back for the suitcase. He lifted one end, frowned at the weight, and touched the silver initials beside its handle.
E.M.
The color left his face.
"This belonged to Elena," he said.
Vanessa stepped between him and the lock. "Vincent, don't open that."
He looked up. "Why do you have my missing wife's suitcase?"
May you like
For the first time, Vanessa seemed genuinely afraid.
And I heard her whisper, "Because she wasn't supposed to leave anything behind."
