Chapter 6 - THE CRIB THAT HID A FORTUNE
Nathan still owned the storage unit containing my nursery furniture.
He had refused to return it after our breakup.
At the time, I'd thought it was another petty punishment.
Now I understood.
He hadn't been keeping my crib.
He'd been searching it.
We reached the storage facility shortly after midnight.
The unit door was already open.
Adrian raised one hand, stopping me.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“If the drive is inside my son's crib, I'm going.”
His jaw flexed.
“Behind me.”
That was apparently his version of compromise.
The unit looked like someone had dropped a bomb inside it.
Boxes were ripped open.
Furniture overturned.
My white wooden crib lay on its side.
One rail had been smashed.
I covered my mouth.
I'd bought it used with Daniel.
One of the few happy memories I still had from those weeks.
Adrian crouched beside it.
“Where would he hide something?”
I remembered Daniel complaining that one leg was loose.
“He repaired that.”
Adrian examined the rear support.
A hollow wooden dowel slid free.
Inside was a tiny black memory card.
“We found it,” I whispered.
“No,” Adrian said.
His eyes were fixed on the doorway.
“We were allowed to find it.”
A light came on.
Nathan stood twenty feet away.
Two men beside him held guns.
His expression had changed since the grocery store.
No arrogance now.
Only fear.
“Give me the card.”
Adrian moved in front of me.
“You're making a serious mistake.”
Nathan laughed nervously.
“You think I'm afraid of you?”
“Yes.”
Nathan's laugh died.
“You have no idea what's on that card.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“It isn't just financial records.”
I held my belly protectively.
“What did Daniel find?”
Nathan looked at me.
For the first time, shame flickered across his face.
“Claire, I never wanted you involved.”
“You humiliated me in a grocery store yesterday.”
“I was trying to make you leave Chicago.”
“By destroying me?”
“I needed you angry enough to disappear.”
“That might be the stupidest explanation you've ever given me.”
One of Nathan's gunmen shifted.
Adrian noticed.
So did I.
Nathan looked desperate.
“Give me the card. If he finds out Claire has it, she's dead.”
“Who?” Adrian asked.
Nathan's face drained.
“You already know.”
“Say the name.”
Before Nathan could answer, gunfire exploded outside.
Adrian pulled me behind a concrete column.
Lights shattered.
Someone screamed.
His men returned fire from the hallway.
I crouched, both hands over my stomach.
“Adrian!”
“I'm here.”
He covered me with his body.
The shooting lasted less than thirty seconds.
Then silence.
Nathan was gone.
One of his men lay injured.
The other had disappeared.
Luca ran inside.
“Boss. We need to move.”
“Who attacked?”
Luca looked toward the entrance.
“Professional crew.”
Adrian stood.
“Take Claire.”
“I am not leaving without you.”
His eyes met mine.
“Claire.”
“No.”
Then his phone rang.
He listened for five seconds.
Everything in his face changed.
“What happened?” I asked.
He lowered the phone.
“Someone broke into my estate.”
“My things?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“They took Marco.”
I remembered his security chief.
“Why?”
Adrian's voice turned cold.
“They left a message.”
Luca handed me a photograph taken inside Adrian's home.
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Written across the wall in red paint were six words:
MORETTI, GIVE US CLAIRE'S BABY.
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