Chapter 1 - THE MAN WAITING IN THE SNOW
The man waiting near the carriage house wasn't a stranger.
That was the part I remembered when I finally opened my eyes.
Not the snow.
Not the cold.
Not even the violent pain in my ribs.
His face.
I had seen him before.
Three weeks earlier, he'd been standing outside Harbor Ridge Rehabilitation Center when I visited Lily.
At the time, I'd assumed he was another patient's relative.
Now I knew better.
I remembered reaching the carriage house with snow already soaking through my shoes. The door was unlocked, although security usually kept it secured during storms.
I stepped inside.
"Hello?"
No answer.
The wine cellar occupied the rear half of the building.
I found the Bellamy Reserve almost immediately.
Too easily.
A single bottle had been placed on a table.
Waiting.
Then the door closed behind me.
I turned.
The man from Harbor Ridge stood there.
Tall.
Gray coat.
Black gloves.
"You should've stayed inside, Claire."
My stomach dropped.
"Who are you?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached for me.
I swung the bottle.
Glass exploded against the wall.
He cursed.
I ran.
Out the side door.
Into the storm.
I heard him behind me.
Then something struck my shoulder.
I fell.
Snow filled my mouth.
I crawled toward the distant lights of the mansion.
Two hundred yards.
Maybe less.
It felt like miles.
The last thing I remembered was someone shouting my name.
Then darkness.
When I woke, warmth hurt.
Every inch of me burned.
I opened my eyes to a bedroom I'd never seen.
A fireplace.
Cream walls.
Heavy curtains.
And Roman DeLuca sitting beside the bed.
His tuxedo jacket was gone.
His white shirt was stained with blood.
Mine, I realized.
His hands were scraped and red.
"Roman?"
His eyes opened instantly.
For the first time in two years, I saw fear on his face.
"Claire."
I tried to sit up.
Pain shot through my side.
He stood.
"Don't."
"What happened?"
"You were hypothermic."
His voice tightened.
"Dr. Harris says another twenty minutes outside could've killed you."
I closed my eyes.
Vivian.
The wine.
The carriage house.
The man.
Roman noticed my expression.
"What do you remember?"
"Someone was waiting."
His face became still.
"Who?"
"I don't know his name."
"Would you recognize him?"
"Yes."
Roman took out his phone.
Before he could call anyone, the bedroom door opened.
Vivian stepped inside wearing a cream robe over her red evening gown.
Her expression was perfect concern.
"Oh my God, Claire. You're awake."
Every muscle in my body tightened.
She came closer.
"I feel terrible. I never imagined the weather would become that dangerous."
I stared at her.
"You sent me."
Her eyes widened.
"For wine."
Roman looked between us.
Vivian gave a nervous laugh.
"Of course. I didn't send anyone to hurt her."
I remembered the man saying my name.
Remembered Harbor Ridge.
Then something else surfaced.
Before I ran from the carriage house, I'd heard his phone ringing.
He answered with one word.
"Mercer."
My eyes moved toward Vivian.
Her father was Charles Mercer.
And suddenly I knew that the man in the snow hadn't been waiting for a random maid.
He had been waiting specifically for me.
"Roman," I whispered.
He looked down.
"The man who attacked me works for the Mercers."
May you like
Vivian stopped breathing.
And Roman's expression became colder than the storm outside.
