Chapter 12 - The Broken Lock
We returned to the Kane estate as the sun was beginning to rise, casting an eerie orange glow over the damp grounds. The battle at the Plaza was over; Dominic was dead, and the other families had officially recognized Valentina’s inheritance out of sheer terror of what Roman and I could do together.
But our victory was cut short the moment our car pulled up to the gates.
The main entrance doors were hanging off their hinges. Two of our guards lay dead on the gravel, their bodies cold.
“No,” Roman muttered, his face turning pale.
He didn’t wait for the car to stop completely. He threw the door open and sprinted into the house. I was right behind him, my heart pounding so hard I could taste copper in the back of my throat.
“Valentina!” I screamed, tearing up the stairs, ignoring the pain in my healing body.
We burst into the nursery. The crib was empty.
The nanny was tied up in the corner, a piece of heavy duct tape over her mouth, bleeding from a blow to the head. Roman quickly cut her loose, his hands shaking violently.
“Who took her?” Roman demanded, his voice a terrifying whisper. “Who took my daughter?”
The nanny wept, trembling. “It was... it was Mrs. Kane. Vivienne. She didn’t escape the cellar, Boss... someone let her out. She had a key. She came up here, took the baby, and left a note.”
I looked over at the changing table. Pinched beneath a silver rattle was a piece of heavy cream stationery. I grabbed it, my eyes scanning the elegant, jagged handwriting of my mother-in-law.
“A girl from Queens will never carry the Kane heir. If you want your bastard back, Roman, bring the original will to the old St. Jude’s orphanage by noon. Come alone. If I see your wife, the baby dies.”
Roman slammed his fist into the wall, cracking the plaster. “I’ll kill her. I’ll tear her apart limb from limb.”
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I stood there, looking at the empty crib, a cold, calculated calm washing over me. The fear was gone. The panic was gone. In its place was a predatory focus.
“She said come alone, Roman,” I said, my voice eerily quiet. “She expects you to follow the rules of a son. But she forgets that I don’t play by her rules.”
