CHAPTER 2 RULES OF MERCY
The second gunshot never came.
Dante moved before the echo died.
He crossed the courtyard, seized Aria aroun
d the waist, and pulled her behind the stone balustrade as Marco’s men flooded the upper floors.
Aria struck his chest once in blind panic.
Then she realized he was shielding her with his body.
“Stay down,” he ordered.
His voice was hard, but his hand at the back of her head was careful.
Caleb Voss collapsed against the wet stones ten feet away.
Blood ran beneath him in narrow red streams, gathering in the cracks between the granite squares.
His lips moved.
No sound came out.
Dante glanced toward him, then toward the shattered window on the third floor.
The trajectory was wrong for a random attack.
The bullet had entered beneath Caleb’s left collarbone and angled downward.
The shooter had fired from inside the house.
“Marco,” Dante called.
“Lock the estate.”
“No one leaves.”
The gates closed with a deep mechanical groan.
Aria heard it and began to shake.
Dante felt the change in her body.
He loosened his grip at once.
“I am not holding you prisoner.”
She looked at the armed men surrounding them.
“The gates are locked.”
“Because someone fired from my home.”
“Not because of you.”
Caleb coughed.
Blood brightened at the corner of his mouth.
Dante rose just enough to see him.
“Get a medic.”
Marco knelt beside Caleb and pressed both hands over the wound.
Caleb’s eyes rolled toward Aria.
“He knows,” he whispered.
Aria went still.
Dante heard him.
“Who knows?”
Caleb smiled weakly.
“The boy.”
Then his chest stopped moving.
The medic arrived seconds too late.
For one long moment, rain tapped against stone, leaves, and blood.
Dante stood and offered Aria his hand.
She stared at it.
He did not reach for her.
He simply waited.
At last, she placed her fingers in his palm.
His hand closed around hers without pressure.
He led her inside through the servants’ corridor while security teams searched every room, attic, stairwell, and roofline.
No shooter was found.
The third-floor room from which the shot had been fired was an unused music salon.
Its door had been locked from the outside.
The window latch had been broken.
A chair stood beneath the sill.
A single brass shell casing lay on the carpet.
Nothing else remained.
Dante studied the room while Marco photographed the evidence.
Aria stood in the doorway with Elena beside her.
The sight of the chair made her stomach twist.
It had been positioned exactly as Caleb used to position chairs outside the punishment room beneath the Sterling library.
Centered.
Straight-backed.
Facing the door.
A reminder that someone was always watching.
Dante noticed her expression.
“You recognize something.”
It was not a question.
Aria hugged the robe tighter around herself.
“The chair.”
“What about it?”
“My father’s men used to leave chairs like that outside locked rooms.”
“To frighten you?”
“To remind us that even when the hallway was empty, someone could be there.”
Dante looked at the chair again.
“Us?”
Aria’s gaze dropped.
“My brother and me.”
Marco glanced toward Dante.
Dante dismissed the others with a small motion.
Elena remained until Aria nodded that she was willing to stay.
Then the older woman closed the door behind her.
Dante kept several feet between himself and Aria.
“Caleb said the key opened a place where your father kept children who disappointed him.”
Aria’s face lost color.
“He liked dramatic language.”
“He was dying.”
“Dying men still lie.”
“So do frightened women.”
Her eyes flashed upward.
Dante immediately regretted the words.
He saw the old instinct return to her posture.
Shoulders drawn inward.
Hands hidden beneath the robe.
Chin lowered in preparation for punishment.
He exhaled slowly.
“That was not an accusation.”
“It sounded like one.”
“You are right.”
Aria blinked.
Dante Rossi apologizing seemed to disturb her more than his anger.
He continued.
“I need the truth because the person who killed Caleb may still be inside this house.”
“Caleb was not killed to protect me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my father does not protect people.”
“He protects secrets.”
Dante watched her closely.
“What secret was Caleb about to reveal?”
Aria turned toward the broken window.
“I do not know.”
It was a lie.
Both of them knew it.
Dante did not challenge her.
Instead, he placed the black key on the piano.
“You said no physician could examine you.”
She tensed.
“I did.”
“That decision remains yours.”
“But if any injury becomes dangerous, Elena will tell me.”
Aria’s mouth tightened.
“She saw them.”
“Yes.”
“Did you order her to report every bruise?”
“No.”
“Then why would she tell you?”
“Because Elena once buried a daughter who was afraid to ask for help.”
Aria’s anger vanished.
Dante looked away.
“Her husband killed her.”
“Elena has no tolerance for silence when silence can become a grave.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Aria approached the piano but did not touch the key.
“My father never hit me where cameras could see.”
Dante’s expression sharpened.
“He preferred places clothing covered.”
“The bruise on my jaw happened because I turned too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“To hear him say Julian’s name.”
Dante waited.
Aria drew a careful breath.
“The night my brother disappeared, Caleb drove him away from the house.”
“I saw them leave through the service gate.”
“Julian was conscious.”
“He was bleeding, but he was alive.”
“Caleb came back alone.”
“Did you ask your father where Julian had gone?”
“I did more than ask.”
She looked at the black key.
“I stole that key from my father’s desk and entered the room beneath the library.”
“What did you find?”
“Blood.”
Dante’s voice dropped.
“Your brother’s?”
“I do not know.”
“There was a camera on the wall.”
“A hidden one?”
“No.”
“My father wanted us to see it.”
“He recorded everything that happened in that room.”
Dante turned toward Marco’s abandoned evidence bag on the table.
“Did you find the recordings?”
“The shelves were empty.”
“But there was a red light under the desk.”
“A transmission indicator.”
Aria nodded.
“Someone was watching live.”
A knock sounded.
Dante’s hand moved instinctively beneath his jacket, though he was not wearing one.
Marco opened the door after Dante gave permission.
“We found something in the bridal suite.”
Aria stiffened.
“What?” Dante asked.
“A transmitter inside the ceiling vent.”
“It was active.”
Dante’s eyes shifted to Aria.
She stared back at him in horror.
Marco continued.
“Audio and video.”
“The feed was being sent through an encrypted relay.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Possibly.”
“We also found a second device in the bathroom mirror.”
Aria covered her mouth.
The wedding night had been intended as a performance.
Her father had expected proof.
Every frightened word, every movement, every refusal would have been watched by strangers.
Dante crossed the room, but stopped before entering her space.
“No one saw you undress.”
“How can you know?”
“The camera was angled toward the bed.”
“That is not an answer.”
“You are right.”
His jaw hardened.
“I do not know who saw what.”
“But I will find them.”
Aria turned away, fighting the urge to be sick.
“Destroy the recordings.”
“I will.”
“No copies.”
“None.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“I can promise what happens to anyone who keeps one.”
The cold certainty in his voice should have frightened her.
Instead, for the first time, it made her feel protected.
Dante looked at Marco.
“Every member of staff is questioned.”
“Every device is seized.”
“Search the walls, vents, fixtures, and vehicles.”
“Bring me the installer alive.”
Marco nodded.
“There is one more thing.”
He held out a clear evidence sleeve.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
“We found this under the transmitter.”
Dante took it.
Three words had been written in blue ink.
SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.
Aria’s knees nearly gave way.
Dante caught her elbow, then released it the instant she steadied herself.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
She stared at the handwriting.
The letters leaned sharply to the left.
The capital E was formed with a broken middle line.
She had seen that handwriting on birthday cards, school notes, and messages hidden beneath her pillow when she was a child.
“It is my mother’s writing.”
Dante looked at her.
“Your mother has been dead for nine years.”
“That is what my father told everyone.”
“What did he tell you?”
Aria’s voice became barely audible.
“That she killed herself.”
Dante examined the paper again.
“The ink is fresh.”
Aria’s fear shifted into something more complicated.
Grief.
Confusion.
A dangerous flicker of hope.
“My mother used to say that exact sentence when my father accused me of imagining things.”
“She would put her hand on my head and tell him, ‘She remembers everything.’”
Dante turned the paper over.
On the back, in smaller writing, was a sequence of six numbers.
11-24-17.
“A date?” Marco asked.
Aria shook her head.
“No.”
“It is a code.”
“To what?”
Aria looked at the black key on the piano.
“My mother’s safe.”
Dante’s gaze hardened.
“Where is it?”
“In the Sterling house.”
“Then we go tonight.”
Aria stared at him.
“My father will know.”
“He already knows you are afraid.”
Dante picked up the key.
“Tonight, he learns you are no longer alone.”
A faint electronic chirp came from Marco’s pocket.
He checked his phone.
His face changed.
“The transmitter came back online.”
“That is impossible,” Dante said.
“We disconnected it.”
Marco looked toward the ceiling.
“The signal is not coming from the bridal suite anymore.”
“Where is it coming from?”
Marco turned the screen toward them.
A map of the estate displayed one blinking red point.
It was directly beneath the music salon.
Directly beneath their feet.
Dante looked down at the carpet.
The house plans showed no room below them.
But the signal pulsed again from a space that officially did not exist.
Aria stared at the floor and remembered Caleb’s final words.
The boy knows.
Then something struck the underside of the floorboards.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
A human pattern.
May you like
Someone was trapped below them.
And whoever it was had just heard every word they said.
