Chapter 2 - The Snow on the Floor|
I realized my mistake the second the words left my lips.
Silas walked around the desk, his heavy leather shoes silent against the thick rug. He didn't look at me; he looked down at the entrance of the study, where faint, wet gray smudges showed where Matteo had stood only twenty minutes earlier.
"My underboss came into my private residence," Silas murmured, his voice chillingly calm. "He walked past three security checkpoints, approached my pregnant wife, and handed her a surrender treaty."
"He came to save your life!" I pleaded, stepping between Silas and the door. "He knows you won't surrender for yourself! He brought it to me because he knew I was the only one who might make you listen!"
Silas looked down at me, his eyes softening for a fraction of a second as his gaze rested on my stomach, where our unborn son shifted beneath my wool coat.
"Matteo didn't come here to save me, Clara," Silas whispered, reaching out to gently touch my cheek with his cold fingers. "He came here to test you."
"What?"
"If you had thrown that folder into the fireplace, Matteo would have stood beside me at dawn with a rifle," Silas explained, his thumb tracing my jawline. "But because you accepted it—because you begged me to sign it—he knows I've already lost my anchor. He knows you're ready to leave."
Before I could process his words, the sharp, rhythmic chime of Silas's encrypted satellite phone broke the silence.
Silas pulled the phone from his jacket pocket, keeping his eyes on mine as he pressed it to his ear.
"Talk," Silas commanded.
A panicked, breathless voice bled through the speaker: "Boss! The south gate at the river docks just blew! Castiglione trucks are moving in! And... and Matteo’s phone just went completely dark!"
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Silas didn't blink. He lowered the phone, clicked it shut, and tossed it onto the desk.
"It begins," Silas whispered.
