Daniel’s expression turned wary, but M’s turned brave. She sent a reassuring smile in his direction. “Daniel.”
My brows rose. I looked over at him, and he was studying the cabi‐ nets above my head. “How?” This was personal for both of them. I didn’t want to push, but that one-word answer had my curiosity in overdrive.
She pressed her lips into a thin line as if considering how much she wanted to reveal. Daniel gripped the edge of the counter, refusing to look at us.
“When I was fourteen, my brother put me in a container on a cargo ship. I don’t know how many days I was in the darkness—”
“Twelve,” Daniel grated out. Muriella and I stared at him. He didn’t meet our eyes, but added, “I looked into it.”
She looked at him with love. “You never told me that.” He stared back without responding. “For twelve days I was in darkness. The time came when I’d eaten the last handful of nuts I had left. There was no more water. I didn’t know when or if would get out of there. I prayed for God to save me. It was either that or drive myself mad with fear.”
I had to sit down, but there was nowhere to go, so I let the counter prop me up. What little she’d described was unimaginable. A child. Alone. In the dark. Having to ration her food. My eyes stung, but when Muriella straightened her shoulders, I couldn’t let any tears fall. The last thing she wanted from me was pity.
“I still hear the sound of the door handle. The way it protested when someone tried to open it.”
“I had to do it. Vinny couldn’t manage,” Daniel said with a bitter‐ ness that made my skin prickle.
“Who’s Vinny?” I asked.
“No one you ever need to worry about.”
The finality in his tone had M and me looking at one another, but neither of us pushed.
“The light burned when it reached the back where I was. I tried to open my eyes, but it took me holding them open as the voices got closer before they would finally stay open on their own.” She closed her lids briefly as if she were still there.
I shot across the short distance between us and put an arm around her waist, resting my head on her shoulder. She hugged me back and put her cheek on the crown of my head.
“That man who was with you, he was talking loudly. I couldn’t understand anything. They kept coming closer. I’d backed up until there was nowhere else for me to go, but my foot got tangled in my bag and made a scraping noise.”
Muriella shuddered in my arms.
“I can’t imagine how terrified you were,” I said, scared for her even though it was a lifetime ago.
“Daniel had been quiet the whole time the other man spoke. He diverted his gaze toward me without drawing attention. When he saw me, I froze. I had no idea what he would do. But I noticed he purposely tried to keep that man from seeing me, and I knew. In that moment, I just knew.” Her voice cracked on the last part, and I blinked rapidly to keep from crying.
Daniel’s face was stoic, but he was staring at us now. “What happened? How did you end up with him?” I asked.
Her cheek swelled against my head. “He and the man left. I didn’t move.” A strange sound escaped her. “That’s crazy, right? They both looked dangerous. I’d been around men like them all of my life. But I didn’t move a muscle.”
“I was only gone for four minutes.” I lifted a brow at Daniel. This was a long time ago, yet he knew the details of that day down to the minute. “I couldn’t believe she was still there.”
“Daniel came back, and it was like breathing for the first time.” That statement from any other woman would have had my claws coming out. But not this one. It was definitely about love, but not the romantic kind. This was life or death.
“We couldn’t communicate, but she understood when I offered my hand.”
“I must have smelled awful,” she said, a note of shame in her voice. “We did okay, didn’t we?” The fondness in Daniel’s voice took me by surprise. His emotions were hardly ever at the surface, yet there was no mistaking he was as affected by Muriella coming into his life as she had been to find him.
“We did.” She squeezed me one more time and let go.
“Why were you in that shipping container anyway?” I asked. “Not today,” Daniel said sharply.
“Not today,” M echoed more gently with a sad smile before she brightened. “You two should get on your way.”
Daniel took my hand, threading our fingers together. “Ready to do this?”
A flurry of excitement swirled in my stomach. I grinned at him. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 16
DANIEL
* * *
Present
* * *
PULSE POUNDING. Sweat-slicked skin. Air sucked in and forced out in clipped breaths.
I amped up the treadmill and pushed my feet to move faster. Mile six clicked off. I hardly blinked, focused on the mirror in front of me. On the man fighting his best to do the right thing and losing.
I punished my body with a rapid pace, yet it didn’t atone for my sins. Didn’t distract me from the shitshow that I’d let my life become.
My phone vibrated in it’s slot on the treadmill, and I automatically looked at it. Damn it. I had to answer.
I powered down the machine and slowed my pace along with it. “Yes.” The word came out with all the vehemence of a curse.
“The aide. He’ll talk, but it has to be now. I’ve got him at Smith and Wollensky, but I don’t know how long I can keep him here.”
Barron Rutledge was the most connected lobbyist in Washington, and he was in my back pocket. Donato had introduced us fifteen years ago, and we had worked together often—rather nicely if I was honest.
Barron got me in places I could never access on my own, and somehow he kept his nose clean. Discreet, swift, and intelligent— three traits I could work with.
“I’m on my way.” I hung up and wiped my face with a towel.
A US Senate seat battle was heating up, and the incumbent had enlisted my services to “dig up shit” on his opponent. He was behind in the polls, the election mere weeks away, and it seemed I’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat again in the nick of time.
I downed a bottle of water and tossed the towel in the hamper, my adrenaline pumping from the aggressive run. Annoyed I’d had to quit when I’d just gotten started, I flipped off the lights to my home gym and headed for the shower.
I’D BARELY SHRUGGED on my jacket when my cell rang again. “Hello, Giselle,” I said as diplomatically as I could.
“Scott wants to know how many more times I have to go out with you.”
Fucking kids. It had only been one outing, yesterday. Did they have nothing else to do but worry me with this shit? “Tell Scott he can thank me personally because you’re speaking to him again.”
Damn if she didn’t repeat what I’d said to her estranged boyfriend, who was apparently at her side. There was a rustling on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Elliott?”
“Scott, I presume,” I said, all business, which inevitably made me sound annoyed. I was.
“Giselle told me the advice you gave her. Thank you. God, you have no idea what you’ve done for me,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
Actually, I knew exactly what I’d done if Giselle was the right girl for him. “I shouldn’t need to borrow her too many more times,” I assured him.
“It’s okay, but are you sure you want to keep doing this? Giselle told me about what happened last night, and—”
* * *
“I’ll be in touch.” I cut him off and hung up before the boy could second-guess what I was doing with my life. I’d already endured that from Giselle after Vivian’s exit. The rest of the evening had been spent trying to explain to her why I was doing what I was doing without actually getting into specifics. It was exhausting.
I grabbed my keys as I passed through the foyer on my way out. There was no other option but to tolerate Giselle and her boyfriend. At the moment, she was the best weapon in my a
rsenal when it came to Vivian.
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, I had a happy client, who by morning would be the only candidate left in the race. I didn’t even give a fuck. All I cared about, as I sat behind the desk in my study, was seeing where Vivian was at that moment. The blue dot appeared on my screen. She was at that shithole apartment.
I didn’t like it, not one fucking bit. But if I stormed in and demanded she leave, the jig was up. I tossed the phone on the desk. Opening the middle drawer, I was assaulted by another photograph of Vivian and me when I lifted a legal pad. Already today I’d found her lip gloss in my pants pocket. I couldn’t make myself remove it.
I started a scavenger hunt around my office, like a glutton for punishment. “Where else did you hide something for me, Princess?” I wondered aloud, opening and closing the drawers to my desk.
Triumph and pain shot through me at once when I discovered a refrigerator magnet in the shape of Spain. At one time, magnets had covered our fridge. We’d had to have it replaced, and magnets wouldn’t stick to the new one. I didn’t know what had happened to these things, but apparently Vivian did.
I traced the shape of the country, opening the gate to memory lane, then set the trinket on my desk and pressed on. I found another photo stashed between a couple of books on a shelf. This was Vivian’s way of yelling at me. Her way of telling me she wasn’t going anywhere.
I smiled. She knew this would get through to me louder than words, and she was right. Vivian wouldn’t let me forget her, no matter how I tried. What she didn’t know was I hadn’t put much effort into it. She was my strength when things were tough. And they would get worse. Much, much worse.
I opened the closet where I kept old files and flipped on the light. I scanned the stacks of boxes without any luck, but I saw an old tape player out of place on the floor, as if someone had recently used it. Underneath was a file folder that most definitely didn’t belong there.
I stooped to pick it up, nearly dropping it when I saw what was inside. I’d shoved this in a box of old cassettes the day Donato had given it to me, just to get it out of my sight. It had remained there until a few days ago when I’d forced myself to look at it. A cursory glance had been all I could stomach. I was sure I’d returned the folder to the box. Why it was here now sent a shiver of unease down my spine. The logical answer was Vivian, though she rarely rummaged through this closet. The way things had been going, though, I couldn’t rule anything out.
My father had been dead nearly twenty-five years. All this time later, and it seemed I couldn’t escape it. But I needed to. Desperately. I was sick and tired of the man, and he refused to let me be. I didn’t need his goddamned medical reports any longer.
“Fuck you.”
Clutching the file, I crossed the room to the shredder, my shoulders relaxing as the reminder of him disappeared. Gone. Just like he was.
Chapter 17
VIVIAN
* * *
Present
* * *
ALANIS MORISSETTE BLARED from my phone, “You Oughta Know” fueling my determination to sort out this mess my life had turned into. I needed this morning off to wade through the cobwebs, stop moping about instead of doing nothing.
As I settled into that old, ratty sofa—now covered with two clean quilts—I felt I’d finally made it to my war room, where I could plan with a clear head. It was as if I’d slipped on my last piece of armor and was truly ready to fight. It was time to take back what was mine by any means necessary.
“Hey, got a sec?” I asked when Muriella picked up the phone. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“There’s a file folder at the bottom of the closet in Daniel’s study. It’s under a tape player. Could you bring it to me?”
“I thought you were going to leave it alone,” she said warily.
“Well, I can’t. I’ve tried, but something about it is bugging me.” I’d been up half the night, and I kept coming back to that fucking autopsy report. I needed a better look at it.
“All right, but I don’t like this. Some things are best left alone.” “Unfortunately, I can’t seem to get that through my thick skull.”
“As long as you’re aware of that,” Muriella teased. “I’ll bring it to you at lunch. Shouldn’t be a problem to get. Daniel went out of town for a few days.”
“Where?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Was she with him?” The thought crushed my heart into a million more pieces.
“Not when he left. I don’t know for certain she isn’t with him now.”
There was a heavy silence between us at the implication of her words. Images of the girl in a barely there bikini on a beach while Daniel watched her frolic in the water had me doubling over in pain.
“We could spy on her,” she suggested. “See if she’s in town or not.” “I need to know,” I said quietly. That was borderline crazy, but I’d make myself insane thinking about the two of them off on a romantic trip.
“We’ll go before lunch. Otherwise, you won’t be able to eat,” she said.
“True.” I heard the echo of footsteps on her end. “Where are you?” “I decided to go get the file while we’re on the phone.” A door creaked faintly. “I’m going to put you on speaker.”
I waited impatiently, listening as she made noise. “You said it’s under the tape player?” she asked. “Yes,” I confirmed and heard more rustling.
“I’m sorry, V. It’s not here.”
It had been two days ago. That it had been moved only raised my suspicions about the importance of that autopsy.
“I’m going to switch to FaceTime so I can let you look around. Maybe I missed it.”
In seconds I had a view of the closet. Muriella zeroed in on the tape player and my stomach sank. “That’s where it was. Will you check that box up there?”
“This one?” She pointed to the box of cassette tapes. “Yeah.” Maybe he’d put it back in there.
M lifted the lid, sifted through the contents, and then let me see inside. No folder.
“I don’t see anything…except my old Duran Duran tape.” She picked it up and palmed it.
“Thanks for looking.” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment.
Once we ended our call, I berated myself for not taking a better look at that report when I had the chance. I couldn’t let go of the feeling it had something to do with Daniel’s behavior, if only I could figure out what.
I sat up straight on the sofa, suddenly getting an idea about where to start.
“IT’S TODAY, ISN’T IT?” I said, walking into Daniel’s study.
He was sitting in his chair with his back to the desk, staring out the window, brooding. I stepped in front of him, blocking his view. Irritated, he refused to verbally acknowledge my question.
“Your father died on this date. Or it was the last time you saw him. I haven’t determined which.”
Daniel’s furious eyes burned into me, but I didn’t look away. Every year on July 23, he got into this mood that lasted all day. He was never what you’d call happy-go-lucky, but on this date, he was dark. He became unreachable, sinking so far inside himself that sometimes I wondered if I could get him out. But he was always back the next day.
He snorted and shook his head. “You’re fearless, you know that? And too fucking smart for your own good.”
“Fearless, huh?” I straddled his legs and sat on his thighs, facing him. “If that were the case, I’d have brought it up when I figured it out two years ago. I’ve let you get away with shouldering this on your own for too long. I can’t stand to see you hurting.”
“I’m not hurting,” he lashed out verbally, reaching for me at the same time. His arms went around me, sliding us closer together. I challenged him with a look, but he stubbornly set his jaw. Well, I could be stubborn too.
“We’ve been together almost five years. When are you going to realize you don’t have to bear the burden for everything yourself?”
“Right after you do,�
� he shot back. “Daniel, I dump everything on you.”
“Bullshit. You carry your own shit and everybody else’s too. You’re like a damn pack mule.”
“Well, I hope I look better than one.” He wasn’t amused. Today was a day when a smile was a hard-earned reward. Little quips wouldn’t cut it. “Let me tell you what a real fucking hardship my life is. I spend every day with a man I love more than life itself. We have our health and happiness. We can go where we want, do anything we please. My family lives basically under one roof, and I have my two best friends with me always. What a load to carry,” I finished sarcastically. He was unmoved, so deep in his anger he couldn’t see past it.
“Vivian,” he said warily, knowing I would not let him off the hook. “You’re not going to intimidate me into talking.”
“I’m not trying to, D. I just want to help you get this day back. I know you don’t want him to have it.” I searched his face and slid my hands up to his shoulders. “Don’t let him be the thing between us.”
His jaw worked, and he got angrier before he calmed. “He sold me out twenty-five years ago today. Correction—just plain sold me. My father stole from a man named Francesco Angelone and got himself out of that by offering him me for a lifetime of servitude to his family. Motherfucker never paid his own debts. Someone else always took the fall. A father is supposed to protect his son, not throw him to the wolves!” Daniel was shouting by the time he finished, like the words had been ripped from his soul.
I cupped his cheek, but his gaze remained hard. “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing it wasn’t enough.
He glared at me, but continued, “Angelone made a deal with me. It was rumored that the head of a rival organization,” he put the last word in air quotes, “had a black book that contained all the rival’s business dealings. If I could get it for him, I’d be free. How the hell was a fifteen-year-old kid supposed to get this phantom black book?”
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