Chapter 2
The pistol skidded across the marble.
Two men pinned Marcus to the floor.
“Get the guests out!” Dante roared. “Nobody touches that box!”
He looked down.
Sophie was shaking against his chest.
Her tiny fingers had twisted themselves into his jacket.
“Did I do something bad?” she whispered.
Dante felt his throat tighten.
“No, sweetheart.”
He gently brushed the loose hair from her forehead.
“You just saved my life.”
But Sophie wasn't comforted.
She stared past his shoulder.
At the red ribbon.
Then she whispered something that made Dante's blood run cold.
“Mr. Dante?”
“Yes?”
“Uncle Marcus said the present wasn't the only surprise.”
## CHAPTER 3 — THE SECOND SURPRISE
At 9:52 p.m., the Moretti estate became a fortress.
Security evacuated the guests through the west wing.
The bomb squad was called.
The gates were locked.
And Marcus Valente was dragged into Dante's private study, where Rafael secured him to a heavy wooden chair.
Dante had no intention of opening the box.
He had no intention of touching it again.
But the second surprise terrified him more.
Because there were two hundred people inside the house.
And one of them was Clara Alvarez.
Sophie's mother.
Clara came running down the hallway, her housekeeper's apron still tied around her waist.
“Sophie!”
The little girl pulled free of Dante and ran straight into her mother's arms.
Clara dropped to her knees, holding her so tightly that Sophie squeaked.
“Baby, what happened? I heard a gunshot!”
“Mommy, I told Mr. Dante about the bad present.”
Clara froze.
She looked at Dante.
Then at the guards.
Then at the blood on Rafael's sleeve.
Her face went pale.
“Oh, God.”
Dante approached carefully.
“Clara, your daughter did something incredibly brave.”
Clara shook her head.
“No. No, please. We weren't supposed to say anything.”
Dante stopped.
“What do you mean?”
Tears filled Clara's eyes.
“Marcus came to our apartment yesterday.”
The hallway seemed to contract around them.
“He told me Sophie had seen something she shouldn't have. He said if I told you, he'd make sure she disappeared.”
Dante said nothing.
Clara began crying.
“He showed me a picture of her walking home from kindergarten. He knew her school. Her classroom. Everything.”
Dante felt an anger he had not experienced in years.
Not the explosive anger of a young man reaching for a gun.
Something quieter.
Colder.
The kind of anger that changed entire lives.