Chapter 2 - The Gun in the Kitchen
Arthur lowered the pistol one inch.
That was all Victor needed.
The kitchen doors opened.
Victor Romano walked inside.
He wore black trousers, a fresh white shirt, and no jacket. A narrow bandage covered the cut near his eyebrow.
Two security men followed him.
Arthur stared.
“You’re supposed to be—”
Victor stopped.
“Dead?”
Nobody moved.
Victor looked at Caleb.
Then at the gun.
Then at Harper.
“Put it down.”
Arthur recovered quickly.
“Victor, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like four armed men entered my kitchen without authorization and dragged in the brother of a member of my staff.”
“She stole from you.”
Victor’s gaze shifted toward Harper.
“Did she?”
Arthur pointed toward the study level.
“Thirty thousand is missing.”
“Is it?”
Victor asked one of his guards, “Daniel?”
“Counted twenty minutes ago. Thirty thousand exactly.”
Arthur’s face changed.
Harper understood.
Victor had replaced whatever Evelyn had stolen.
He was building a trap.
Arthur forced a laugh.
“Then Evelyn took it.”
“Evelyn is unavailable.”
“Where is she?”
Victor ignored him.
He approached Caleb and crouched.
“What did you borrow from Arthur?”
Caleb looked at Harper.
“Answer him,” she said.
Caleb’s voice cracked.
“Twenty thousand.”
Harper stared at him.
“You told me sixty.”
“I know.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
Victor stood.
“Interesting.”
Caleb looked sick.
“I lost twenty. Arthur said penalties made it sixty.”
Victor turned toward Arthur.
“My betting rooms don’t charge penalties like that.”
Arthur said nothing.
Victor continued.
“And Caleb Carter never borrowed from one of my rooms.”
Harper looked at her brother.
Caleb dropped his eyes.
“Where did you get the money?”
Caleb whispered, “Arthur.”
The kitchen went silent.
“Personally?” Victor asked.
Caleb nodded.
Arthur raised his weapon.
Victor’s guards raised theirs instantly.
“Careful,” Victor said.
Arthur smiled without humor.
“You think you know what’s happening?”
“No.”
Victor’s voice remained calm.
“That’s why you’re still breathing.”
Arthur looked toward Harper.
“She’s playing you.”
Victor glanced at her.
“Maybe.”
The word hurt more than Harper expected.
Arthur saw it.
“She came here because I put her here.”
Harper turned.
“What?”
Arthur smiled.
“Didn’t your brother tell you?”
Caleb began shaking his head.
“Arthur, don’t.”
“Tell her.”
“Don’t.”
Arthur laughed.
Victor’s gaze moved between them.
Caleb looked at Harper.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“The debt.”
Harper’s voice became smaller.
“What about it?”
“I didn’t lose all that money gambling.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Then where did it go?”
Caleb looked toward Arthur.
“He paid me.”
Harper stepped back.
“For what?”
Caleb could barely speak.
“To get you inside this house.”
Harper stared at him.
Eleven months.
Eleven months of insults.
Unpaid labor.
Threats.
Fear.
All because Arthur wanted her here?
“Why me?”
Caleb shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Arthur suddenly fired.
The gunshot exploded through the kitchen.
Harper dropped.
Victor’s men returned fire.
A cabinet shattered.
Arthur’s men scattered.
Victor grabbed Harper and pulled her behind the marble island.
“Caleb!”
“He’s down!”
Harper tried to move.
Victor held her.
Another shot cracked overhead.
Then silence.
“Clear!” someone shouted.
Victor released Harper.
She crawled toward Caleb.
He was alive.
The bullet had grazed his shoulder.
Arthur was gone.
A side service door stood open.
Two of his men lay wounded.
The others had surrendered.
Victor stared at the empty doorway.
“He planned an exit.”
Harper pressed a towel against Caleb’s shoulder.
Caleb grimaced.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to explain everything.”
“I will.”
Victor’s phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?” Harper asked.
Victor showed her.
It was a photograph.
Harper entering the estate eleven months earlier.
Underneath it was a message.
SHE’S IN POSITION.
A second message appeared.
Victor read it.
Then slowly looked at Harper.
“What does it say?”
He turned the screen toward her.
ASK HER WHO HER FATHER REALLY WAS.
Harper stopped breathing.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
Victor said nothing.
Another message arrived.
This one contained a photograph.
Harper recognized her father immediately.
But he wasn’t alone.
May you like
Standing beside him was Victor’s murdered father.
And on the back of the photograph, someone had written a date—and a single name Harper had never seen before.
