Chapter 8
At midnight, the power went out.
The penthouse went dark.
Security alarms screamed.
Rico immediately grabbed Leo.
"Clara!"
"I'm here."
"Stay behind me."
A gunshot shattered the window.
Glass exploded across the room.
Rico threw himself over Leo.
Clara grabbed the boy.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Rico looked toward the balcony.
A shadow moved.
He reached for his weapon.
Clara whispered:
"Rico."
He turned.
Leo was pointing.
Not at the balcony.
At the hallway.
Someone was standing there.
Dante.
Rico's security chief.
Blood covered his shirt.
He raised his hands.
"Don't shoot."
Rico aimed his gun.
"You."
Dante shook his head.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
"Then why are you bleeding?"
"I was shot protecting them."
"By who?"
Dante looked toward the window.
"Your father."
Rico lowered his gun slightly.
Dante pulled out a phone.
"There's one more thing you need to know."
He handed it to Rico.
A video was playing.
Elena.
Alive.
Sitting in the same chair where Rico had spent six months drinking alone.
Her eyes were swollen.
She was speaking directly into the camera.
"Rico, if you're watching this, I'm probably dead."
Rico stopped breathing.
Elena continued.
"I need you to listen carefully."
She looked down.
"Your father isn't the only person involved."
Rico stared.
"There is someone inside the family."
The video froze.
Clara stepped closer.
"Who?"
The screen continued.
Elena whispered:
"Your brother."
Rico went still.
He had no brother.
He had only one sibling.
His sister.
Isabella.
Clara looked at him.
Rico's face turned pale.
Isabella.
The woman who had cried at Elena's funeral.
The woman who had held Leo.
The woman who had told Rico:
“I’ll help you raise him.”
The woman who had been inside the penthouse every week.
The woman who had known every security code.
Rico whispered:
"No."
The video continued.
Elena said:
May you like
"Don't trust Isabella."
Then the screen went black.
