Chapter 9 - THE ROOM WITHOUT WINDOWSI woke to the smell of bleach.
My wrists were tied to the arms of a chair. A hard light burned above me. There were no windows, no clocks, and no sound except the slow hum of an air vent.
My first thought was the baby.
My second was Damon.
I pulled against the restraints.
“Don’t waste your strength,” a woman said.
Celeste Marquetti stepped from the corner.
The wine stain was gone from her dress. Her hair was perfect. Her face was pale, but her eyes had lost the careless cruelty they held at St. Cordova.
“You,” I said.
“You look disappointed.”
“I was hoping for someone less predictable.”
Her mouth tightened. “You are in no position to be clever.”
“I’m in a room without windows, tied to a chair, and pregnant. Clever is all I have left.”
She came closer.
“My father wants the trust.”
“Then he should have asked politely.”
“The trust is connected to your child.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Do you understand what will happen if Damon gets the evidence?”
“Your family goes to prison.”
“Everyone goes to prison. Judges. Port officials. Police commanders. Half the people who keep this city functioning.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
Celeste slapped the table beside me, not my face.
“You think Damon will save you?”
“He already has.”
Her expression twisted. “He married you for the same reason my father wants you dead. You are an asset.”
“He married me to protect me.”
“Men like Damon do not protect anything without owning it.”
For a moment, I thought of the ring hanging around my neck. The way Damon had stopped when I told him not to touch me. The way he had looked at my hand in his.
“You don’t know him,” I said.
“I know him better than you do. My father offered him a partnership. A marriage alliance. Damon refused.”
“With you?”
“With our family.”
“So you hate me because he said no?”
“I hate you because he looked at you like you were something he could lose.”
The confession surprised both of us.
Celeste stepped away.
“You slapped me because you were jealous.”
“I slapped you because you were in my way.”
“And the baby?”
Her eyes dropped to my stomach.
“The baby is innocent.”
“My father does not agree.”
“Do you?”
Silence answered first.
Celeste turned toward the door.
“You have twelve hours to give us the access code.”
“I don’t know it.”
“Benjamin Hart said you control the trust.”
“Control does not mean I know the code.”
“Then we will make you remember.”
The door opened before she could leave.
Marcel Marquetti entered with two guards.
He was a handsome older man with silver hair and a smile that had never reached his eyes. I had seen him from across St. Cordova. He had worn an expensive tuxedo and watched Celeste slap me without moving.
“Leave us,” he told her.
Celeste hesitated.
“Now.”
She left.
Marcel sat across from me.
“You remind me of your husband,” he said.
“You killed him.”
“I ordered a conversation. The conversation became violent.”
“That is what cowards call murder when they want to sleep.”
He smiled. “Eli was brave. Unfortunately, bravery does not protect a man from a bullet.”
“Why did you frame him?”
“Because Damon needed someone to blame.”
“Why?”
“A grieving man is easy to control. A vengeful man is predictable.”
The door opened again.
Gabriel entered, pale from his wound but alive.
Marcel looked at him. “Did you recover the watch?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I know where it is.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“She swallowed the key.”
Marcel’s gaze returned to my stomach.
“The key is not in my body.”
“No,” Gabriel said. “But it is in your possession.”
I remembered the last time I had seen it. Damon had placed it on the desk. Then the ambulance. Then the smoke.
My hand moved instinctively toward my wedding ring.
Gabriel saw it.
“Damon gave you his mother’s ring.”
I said nothing.
“The gold is hollow,” Gabriel continued. “The key fits inside.”
Marcel stood.
“Remove it.”
One guard came forward.
I pulled the chain from my neck and held the ring tightly.
“Touch me and I’ll break it.”
Marcel stopped.
“You would destroy the only thing that can open the vault?”
“If I can’t use it, neither can you.”
He considered me.
“You are more like Eli than I expected.”
“He was smarter.”
“He was dead.”
“And you’re still afraid of him.”
The smile vanished.
Somewhere outside the room, an alarm began to sound.
Gabriel turned toward the door.
“What is that?”
The lights flickered.
Then the building shook.
Marcel shouted for his guards, but the first explosion swallowed his voice.
The chair tipped sideways. My shoulder struck the floor. Pain exploded across my abdomen.
The restraints snapped loose from one arm.
I crawled toward the table as smoke filled the room.
Another blast sounded.
The door flew inward.
Damon stood behind it, his black shirt torn, blood running down his cheek, a weapon in each hand.
His eyes found me.
Everything else disappeared.
“Get away from my wife,” he said.
Marcel raised his gun.
Damon fired first.
Marcel fell.
Celeste screamed.
Gabriel ran.
And Damon crossed the room, dropped to his knees beside me, and touched my face with hands that shook for the first time.
“Are you hurt?”
“The baby.”
His expression broke.
“We’re leaving.”
Before we reached the corridor, a voice came through the speakers.
Miriam Vale.
“Damon, stop.”
He looked up.
“The building is wired,” she said. “If you take Adriana through the front door, the whole hotel comes down.”
I clutched his sleeve.
“Then where do we go?”
May you like
Miriam answered from somewhere above us.
“Down.”
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