Chapter 6 - THE MAN WHO KNEW ABOUT THE SCARS
Ethan Bennett was not supposed to know where Lily worked.
He wasn’t supposed to know about Jack Moretti.
He certainly wasn’t supposed to know about the verification chip.
Yet he knew.
Police contacted him.
No answer.
His apartment was empty.
His employer claimed he hadn’t appeared in four days.
Then Jack’s investigators found something stranger.
Ethan had been doing contract security work.
For Marco Voss.
Lily sat in silence.
Jack remained across from her.
“He used to work construction.”
“He still does sometimes.”
“Security on the side?”
“Not when we were married.”
“What changed?”
“Money.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Money was always the only thing Ethan respected.”
Jack looked at her.
“He mocked you for not making enough?”
“For everything.”
Her body tightened before she could stop it.
Jack noticed.
Again, he didn’t ask.
That restraint made the truth come out anyway.
“After Noah was born, I gained weight.”
Jack said nothing.
“Ethan hated it.”
Nothing.
“He said I embarrassed him.”
Her hands trembled.
“He cheated. Then told me it happened because I stopped looking like the woman he married.”
Jack’s face went dangerously still.
Lily continued because if she stopped now, she might never say it.
“One night we argued.”
She touched her side unconsciously.
“He shoved me into the edge of a broken bathroom mirror.”
Jack’s eyes dropped to the movement.
“That’s where the scars came from.”
Silence.
“I wore long sleeves and high waistbands for years afterward because he told me nobody would want to look at them.”
Jack did not say she was beautiful.
Did not tell her Ethan was stupid.
Did not offer the kind of compliment men often used to erase a woman’s pain because they didn’t know what else to do.
He asked one question.
“Did he go to jail?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I lied at the hospital.”
Jack’s jaw clenched.
“Because you were afraid?”
“Yes.”
Then she added:
“And because Noah was six months old, I had eighty-three dollars, and Ethan controlled the lease.”
Jack looked away.
For the first time, Lily saw genuine fury on his face.
Not the performative anger powerful men used to impress rooms.
Something colder.
But when he looked back, he said:
“I’m sorry that happened.”
Nothing more.
Lily’s throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
Then Jack’s phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Ethan.
Alive.
Standing beside Victor Hail.
The picture had been taken ten minutes earlier.
“Where?”
Rocco answered:
“South freight terminal.”
Jack stood.
Lily did too.
“No.”
She glared.
He sighed.
“I was going to say you should stay with Noah.”
“Ask.”
His eyes held hers.
“Will you stay with your son while police and my security team locate Ethan?”
“Yes.”
A hint of approval passed through his face.
“Good.”
Then another photograph arrived.
Ethan and Victor were not alone.
Sarah stood between them.
Alive.
Her face bruised.
Her wrist restrained.
May you like
And written across the photograph were six words:
BRING THE WAITRESS OR SHE DIES.
