Chapter 3 - The Men at the Door
Stefano moved before the rest of us understood what had happened.
One second he stood beside the cake. The next, he had shoved the folding table sideways, killed the lights, and pulled me behind the kitchen wall.
"Stay down."
"Why would anyone want my mother's dress?"
"Nora. Down."
There was a kind of command in his voice that my body obeyed before my pride could object.
Mr. Avery whispered a prayer. Mrs. Delaney crawled behind the piano. Outside, tires hissed against the wet street.
Stefano took out his phone and sent one message.
"Who are you calling?"
"People who answer."
"That is not reassuring."
The front door pushed inward.
Two men entered wearing dark jackets and baseball caps. One carried a crowbar. The other kept his right hand inside his coat.
Stefano stepped from the shadows.
"Wrong church," he said.
The man with the crowbar froze.
"Moretti."
That name meant nothing to me then. The way the stranger said it meant everything.
Stefano did not raise his voice. "You have ten seconds to walk out."
"Caruso wants the dress."
"Caruso wants many things."
"He said you wouldn't start a war over some woman."
Stefano glanced at me.
"He was wrong."
The second man pulled a gun.
I heard Mrs. Delaney gasp.
Stefano crossed the distance faster than I thought a man his size could move. He caught the gunman's wrist, drove it against the doorframe, and the weapon clattered to the floor. The crowbar swung. Stefano ducked, struck once, and the man folded over with a sound like air leaving a tire.
It was brutal, controlled, and over in seconds.
The gunman tried to run. Stefano grabbed the back of his jacket and slammed him against the wall.
"Tell Vincent," he said softly, "that he just walked into a church on her birthday. He gets one chance to remember what that means."
The man spat blood onto the tile. "You think she's innocent? Ask her sister."
My skin went cold.
"What about Claire?"
The man smiled at me.
"Ask who canceled your guests."
Then three more black vehicles stopped outside.
Men in suits entered, but this time they nodded to Stefano. One of them, a heavyset man with a scar through his eyebrow, took one look at the broken door and swore.
"Boss, we need to move."
Boss.
I turned slowly toward Stefano.
He did not deny it.
The scarred man looked at me, then at the red dress.
"That's her?"
Stefano's face hardened.
"Nobody talks about her like that."
I grabbed my purse.
"No. Absolutely not. I don't care what you run, who these people are, or what Paula kept from me. I'm calling the police."
Stefano looked toward the shattered door.
"You can. But before you do, call your sister."
I did.
This time Claire answered.
She was crying.
"Nora," she whispered, "please don't go home."
May you like
Then I heard a man's voice beside her.
"Tell your sister we're waiting."
