Chapter 4: A Home That No Longer Existed
The words echoed through my mind long after Anthony stopped speaking.
You can never go home again.
I stared at him, convinced I had misunderstood.
"What are you talking about?"
Anthony didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward one of his security men.
"How long until we land?"
"Two hours and eighteen minutes."
Anthony nodded.
"Have Marco meet us at the hangar. I want everything verified before Mrs. Carter leaves this aircraft."
My pulse quickened.
"Leaves? I'm getting off this plane the moment we land."
Anthony turned back to me.
"No."
The certainty in his voice sent a chill down my spine.
"You don't understand the situation yet."
"I understand perfectly." My voice rose despite myself. "I'm a civilian. I don't know you. I don't want to know you. I appreciate what you've done, but the moment this plane lands, I'm going to my sister's house."
Anthony's expression didn't change.
"I hope you're right."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I hope I'm wrong."
Before I could ask another question, his satellite phone vibrated.
He answered without looking away from me.
"Yes."
Silence.
Then the color slowly drained from his face.
"When?"
Another pause.
"I see."
He ended the call.
The room became so quiet that I could hear the engines beneath the floor.
"What happened?" I asked.
Anthony didn't answer me.
He looked at one of his guards instead.
"Bring her."
"Sir?"
"Now."
Five minutes later, an elderly woman entered the nursery.
She was elegantly dressed, silver-haired, and carried herself with the quiet confidence of someone who had seen far too much of life.
"This is Sofia," Anthony said.
"My family's attorney."
She offered me a sympathetic smile.
"Mrs. Carter."
I nodded uncertainly.
Anthony handed her a tablet computer.
"Show her."
Sofia hesitated.
"Anthony..."
"She deserves the truth."
She walked over and sat beside me.
"I'm very sorry for what you're about to see."
The screen displayed a photograph.
At first, I didn't recognize it.
Then my stomach lurched.
It was my apartment building.
Or rather...
What was left of it.
Half the structure was blackened with smoke.
Fire trucks surrounded the entrance.
Windows were shattered.
Yellow police tape stretched across the sidewalk.
My heart stopped.
"No..."
Sofia swiped to the next picture.
Firefighters carried charred furniture through the front entrance.
The next image showed my apartment window.
Or what had once been my apartment window.
The nursery.
My boys' room.
Gone.
Reduced to black ash.
I couldn't breathe.
"What... happened?"
Anthony answered quietly.
"A fire."
"When?"
"Forty-three minutes ago."
I stared at him.
"I left Chicago yesterday."
"I know."
"My apartment was empty."
"Exactly."
The room suddenly felt much colder.
Anthony folded his arms.
"According to the first emergency reports, the fire began in your apartment."
"That's impossible."
"The investigators currently believe faulty wiring."
I shook my head violently.
"No."
"Our investigators disagree."
I looked up.
"Our?"
"My people reached the scene before the official investigators."
My voice barely worked.
"Why?"
"Because after learning your husband's accident may not have been accidental, I ordered someone to quietly watch your apartment."
A terrible realization began forming.
Anthony continued.
"The security cameras from the alley behind your building captured two men entering through the rear fire exit."
He placed two printed photographs on the table.
Both images were grainy.
Two hooded figures.
One carrying what looked like a fuel container.
"They stayed inside for six minutes."
He slid over another photograph.
"The explosion happened ninety seconds after they left."
I stared at the images until they blurred.
"They weren't trying to destroy evidence."
Anthony's voice became colder.
"They were making sure there would be nothing left if you returned home."
Tears filled my eyes.
"My boys..."
The nursery.
Their blankets.
Their drawings.
The last pieces of them I had left.
Gone.
Every memory.
Every tiny sweater.
Every birthday card.
Every photograph I hadn't yet gathered.
All of it had disappeared in flames.
I covered my face with both hands.
"I couldn't even protect their memories."
Without saying a word, Anthony handed me a clean handkerchief.
I accepted it automatically.
After several minutes, I finally managed to speak.
"You think someone was waiting for me?"
"I don't think."
He pointed to another image.
"I know."
This one showed a dark sedan parked across the street from my building.
The timestamp was only fifteen minutes before the fire.
"Our people identified the vehicle."
"Who owns it?"
"No one."
"What?"
"It was stolen three days ago."
Another silence.
Then Anthony leaned forward.
"Mrs. Carter."
His voice had lost every trace of intimidation.
It was calm.
Measured.
Almost gentle.
"I've lived in a dangerous world for most of my life."
I said nothing.
"I recognize patterns."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Someone wanted your family dead."
I felt sick.
"Your husband died."
I closed my eyes.
"Your children died."
A tear slid down my cheek.
"And yesterday..."
He paused.
"They learned you survived."
My heartbeat hammered inside my ears.
"The fire wasn't revenge."
"It was insurance."
He let those words sink in.
"If you had gone back to your apartment, you would've died there."
The room spun around me.
I thought of all the times I'd planned to return.
To collect my boys' belongings.
To sit in their nursery one last time.
If my flights hadn't been delayed...
If I hadn't accepted the invitation onto this plane...
I would already be dead.
The realization left me numb.
"I don't understand."
Anthony nodded slowly.
"Neither do I."
He stood and walked toward the window.
"But I intend to."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
He turned back.
"Because my daughter is alive."
His gaze shifted toward little Isabella, sleeping peacefully in the nanny's arms.
"You gave her that future."
"I only did what any mother would've done."
"No."
His voice was quiet.
"You did what very few people would've done."
He walked back toward me.
"You knew nothing about us."
"That's true."
"You were afraid."
"Yes."
"You believed we might be dangerous."
"I did."
"And yet you risked your own life to save my child."
I lowered my eyes.
"I couldn't let her die."
Anthony stood silently for a moment.
Then he made a decision.
"When we land, you're coming with us."
I looked up immediately.
"No."
"It isn't a request."
"I'm not hiding in a mafia house."
"You won't be hiding."
"What then?"
"You'll be surviving."
I shook my head.
"I can't."
"You can."
"I don't belong in your world."
His expression softened for the first time since we'd met.
"Emily..."
It was the first time he'd used my first name.
"You don't."
Another pause.
"But your enemies do."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Anthony reached into his jacket and removed a thin manila folder.
He placed it in front of me.
Inside were several photographs.
One showed my husband shaking hands with a man I'd never seen before.
Another showed that same man entering a downtown office building.
The final photograph froze my blood.
The man was standing beside Anthony Moretti.
Anthony tapped the image.
"I've seen this face before."
I looked between the photograph and Anthony.
"Who is he?"
Anthony's jaw tightened.
"He used to work for me."
My heart skipped.
"He disappeared eighteen months ago after stealing millions of dollars from my organization."
I looked back at the picture.
"What does that have to do with my husband?"
Anthony's eyes became dangerously still.
"That's exactly what we're going to find out."
Outside the cabin windows, the first lights of Seattle shimmered against the evening sky.
The plane had begun its descent.
May you like
Neither of us realized that somewhere below, a sniper had already taken position near the private runway, watching the approaching jet through the scope of a high-powered rifle.
And Emily Carter had just become his next target.
