Chapter 6 - The Night Sebastian Came Back
Dante did not hesitate.
“Lock every exterior door.”
The Moretti home—where Abigail had gone after leaving the Crane mansion under Claire’s advice—shifted instantly.
Not into chaos.
Into procedure.
Rosa moved the children upstairs.
Two security men appeared from opposite hallways.
Lights came on along the perimeter.
Abigail stood near the security monitor, watching Sebastian at the gate.
“He brought that man here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I intend to find out.”
Dante reached for his jacket.
Abigail caught his sleeve.
He stopped.
She released it immediately.
“Don’t go outside angry.”
He looked at her.
“I’m not angry.”
“You’re terrifyingly calm.”
“That means I’m angry.”
“Exactly.”
A flicker of humor.
Gone instantly.
His phone buzzed.
Security.
“Mr. Crane is requesting entry.”
Dante pressed the intercom.
“No.”
Sebastian’s voice came through.
“Dante, we need to talk.”
“No.”
“This concerns Abigail.”
She stepped closer.
“Let me.”
Dante handed her control of the intercom.
No argument.
Abigail pressed the button.
“What do you want?”
Sebastian paused.
“Abby.”
The old name.
The soft voice.
Her stomach turned.
“Don’t.”
“I need five minutes.”
“You had eight years.”
“This is serious.”
“So was forging my signature.”
“I can explain.”
“Through Claire.”
“It can’t go through lawyers.”
That told her everything.
“Then it doesn’t happen.”
Sebastian’s composure cracked.
“Abigail, listen to me.”
“No.”
The word felt good.
She released the button.
Dante looked at her.
“What?”
“You’re getting very good at that.”
“At what?”
“No.”
She almost smiled.
Then a security officer spoke through Dante’s earpiece.
“Sir. Vehicle approaching from rear service road.”
Dante’s expression changed.
“How many?”
“Two.”
The humor vanished.
Abigail’s pulse jumped.
“What’s happening?”
Dante looked toward the staircase.
“Go upstairs.”
“No.”
“Abigail.”
“You told me no means no.”
His jaw tightened.
She stared.
Then, incredibly, he nodded.
“Stay behind the interior security door.”
“That I can do.”
They moved into a reinforced hallway near the central staircase.
The children had been taken to a safe room.
Abigail hated knowing such a room existed.
She hated more that it might be necessary.
A guard arrived with a tablet.
“Vehicles stopped outside the secondary gate.”
Dante looked at the feed.
Two unmarked SUVs.
“Police?”
“No plates.”
Abigail’s stomach tightened.
“This is because of the documents.”
“Probably.”
“Sebastian thinks if he scares me, I’ll stop.”
Dante looked at her.
“Will you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The front gate camera showed Sebastian pacing.
His criminal attorney remained by the car.
The third man—the one tied to Matteo’s attempted kidnapping—looked directly toward the camera.
Then smiled.
Dante’s face became glacial.
Abigail understood.
Whatever Sebastian thought he controlled, he had brought something more dangerous with him.
“Who is that man?”
“Graham Voss.”
“What does he do?”
“Officially? Corporate intelligence.”
“And unofficially?”
Dante did not answer.
He didn’t need to.
A phone rang.
Not Dante’s.
Abigail’s.
Unknown number.
She stared.
“Answer?” Dante asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Your choice.”
She answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice.
Graham Voss.
“Mrs. Crane.”
Abigail’s blood chilled.
“How did you get this number?”
“Your husband gave me many things.”
Dante extended his hand.
Abigail shook her head.
He accepted it.
She stayed on the call.
“What do you want?”
“To solve a problem.”
“I’m not interested.”
“You should be.”
Behind the security glass, Dante was already signaling his team to trace the call.
Voss continued.
“Sebastian made mistakes.”
“So did you.”
A pause.
Then a laugh.
“You’re sharper than he said.”
Abigail closed her eyes.
Of course Sebastian had described her.
Probably foolish.
Emotional.
Easy.
Voss said, “The documents you found create complications.”
“For you?”
“For several people.”
“Good.”
Another pause.
“You’re brave tonight.”
“No. I’m tired.”
“Of what?”
“Men assuming they know what scares me.”
Dante looked at her.
Something almost like pride crossed his face.
Voss’s voice cooled.
“You should be scared for the children.”
Abigail stopped breathing.
Dante’s hand went out.
This time she gave him the phone.
He put it on speaker.
“Say that again.”
Silence.
Then Voss laughed.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Threaten my children one more time.”
“I didn’t threaten.”
“You’re right.”
Dante’s voice became softer.
“That would require leverage.”
Voss ended the call.
A security officer said, “Trace failed.”
Dante looked toward the gate feed.
The third man was gone.
Only Sebastian and his attorney remained.
“Where did Voss go?”
Cameras shifted.
Nothing.
Dante issued instructions.
Abigail’s heart pounded.
She thought of Lucia.
Nico.
Matteo.
Three children who had stood between her and Sebastian before they knew her name.
“I brought this here.”
Dante turned.
“No.”
“He came because of the evidence.”
“He came because Sebastian made choices.”
“If I hadn’t—”
Dante stepped closer but stopped several feet away.
“Don’t take responsibility for another man’s threat.”
She stared.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
His voice softened.
“I spent years believing Elena died because I should have noticed her illness sooner.”
Abigail froze.
He had never said how his wife died.
Dante continued.
“She hid symptoms. I was traveling. By the time we knew, treatment options were limited.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I spent two years rewriting history so I could blame myself.”
He looked toward the stairs.
“It didn’t bring her back. It only made me less present for the children who were still here.”
Abigail swallowed.
“You’re saying guilt can become vanity.”
Dante’s eyes met hers.
“Yes.”
The truth was brutal.
Useful.
She nodded slowly.
Then an alarm sounded upstairs.
Dante moved instantly.
“What?”
Rosa’s voice came over the house system.
“Safe room exterior sensor.”
Dante ran.
Abigail followed despite every instinct telling her not to.
They reached the upper corridor.
A window near the safe room was broken.
Glass glittered across the floor.
One guard lay conscious but bleeding from the forehead.
“Children?”
Dante demanded.
“Inside.”
He hit the safe-room access panel.
Nothing.
“Rosa?”
No answer.
Dante’s calm shattered.
“Rosa!”
Abigail’s heart stopped.
Then a tiny voice came through the steel door.
“Dad?”
Lucia.
Dante exhaled.
“Open the door.”
“We can’t.”
“Why?”
“Rosa said not to.”
Good Rosa.
Dante closed his eyes.
“Lucia, it’s safe.”
A pause.
“How do I know?”
Dante almost laughed despite everything.
“Ask me the question.”
“What did Mom call Matteo when he put spaghetti in your shoes?”
Dante sighed.
“Tiny criminal.”
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Lucia ran into him.
Nico followed.
Matteo emerged last, holding a fireplace poker twice his size.
Dante stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Rosa gave it to me.”
Rosa appeared behind him.
“No, I did not.”
Matteo lowered it.
“I found it.”
Dante hugged all three children.
Abigail turned away.
The tenderness hurt in a good way.
Then Matteo saw her.
“Abigail!”
He ran.
She bent down.
He hugged her.
“You didn’t leave.”
“No.”
“You promised.”
“I know.”
He held tighter.
Something inside her shifted.
Not ownership.
Not obligation.
Belonging.
A security officer appeared.
“Sir.”
Dante stood.
“What?”
“We caught someone at the east wall.”
“Voss?”
“No.”
“Who?”
The officer looked toward Abigail.
“A woman.”
Abigail frowned.
“Who?”
“She says she knows Mrs. Bennett.”
Abigail’s stomach tightened.
“Name?”
The officer hesitated.
“Margaret Crane.”
Sebastian’s mother.
Abigail went cold.
Margaret had spent eight years treating her like a stain on the family name.
Too common.
Too heavy.
Too unsophisticated.
Too barren.
And now she had climbed over Dante Moretti’s wall in the middle of the night?
Impossible.
Unless she was desperate.
They brought Margaret into a secured sitting room.
Her perfect silver-blonde hair was disheveled.
Her coat was torn.
She looked twenty years older than Abigail remembered.
The moment she saw Abigail, she cried.
Not graceful tears.
Real ones.
“Thank God.”
Abigail stood still.
“What are you doing here?”
Margaret looked at Dante.
“Is this room secure?”
“Yes.”
“Phones?”
Dante nodded toward a signal-blocking box.
Margaret placed hers inside.
Then she turned to Abigail.
“I owe you an apology.”
Abigail almost laughed.
“That’s why you climbed a wall?”
“No.”
Margaret’s face crumpled.
“I came because Sebastian is going to destroy the evidence.”
“He already tried.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You found the money. The trust. The medical records.”
“How do you know?”
“I helped him hide them.”
Abigail went numb.
Margaret continued before she could respond.
“I knew about the fertility results.”
The pain returned fresh.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You watched him blame me.”
Margaret cried harder.
“Yes.”
“You called me defective.”
“I know.”
“You told me I was ruining your family.”
“I know.”
Abigail’s hands curled into fists.
Dante stayed silent.
This belonged to her.
Margaret whispered, “I was protecting my son.”
“From what? The truth?”
“Yes.”
The honesty made Abigail angrier.
Margaret took a breath.
“But that isn’t why I’m here.”
“What else could there possibly be?”
Margaret looked toward the door.
“Sebastian didn’t only steal your trust.”
Abigail waited.
“He used it as collateral.”
“For what?”
Margaret’s lips trembled.
“For the Crane empire.”
Abigail’s pulse slowed.
“If your trust is restored to you…”
“Yes.”
“What happens to his company?”
“It collapses.”
Abigail stared.
Margaret continued.
“That’s why he needed the divorce signed before the audit.”
“Why?”
“Because the prenup contains a separation clause.”
Claire had mentioned something like that.
Abigail’s mind raced.
Margaret said, “If the marriage legally ended before fraud was established, Sebastian believed he could isolate you from the company liabilities.”
Abigail almost laughed.
“He was protecting me?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
Abigail knew.
Of course.
“He was protecting himself.”
“Yes.”
Margaret reached inside her coat.
Dante’s security men tensed.
She slowly removed a small flash drive.
“I copied the board records.”
Dante stared.
“What’s on it?”
“Everything.”
“Why bring it now?”
Margaret looked at Abigail.
“Because Voss called me tonight.”
Her voice dropped.
“He said Sebastian had authorized him to make sure none of us could testify.”
Abigail’s blood turned cold.
Dante took the drive carefully.
Margaret whispered, “There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
She looked directly at Abigail.
“The prenup isn’t valid.”
Abigail froze.
“Why?”
Margaret’s mouth opened.
Before she could answer, every light in the house went out.
May you like
A single gunshot cracked somewhere beyond the front doors.
Then someone began pounding from inside the locked service corridor.
