Stolen: Dante’s Vow by Natasha Knight
Dante
The next night I leave Mara in the kitchen when I get a text from Charlie to contact him right away. Matthaeus and I make our way to the study where my laptop is already set up to log on to FaceTime Charlie. He answers on the second ring. He’s in Cristiano’s office on the island.
“Matthaeus updated us on Viktor Petrov,” Cristiano says.
“One more down. One to go. Plus, whoever Pérez’s buyer is. Any word on that?” I hope that’s why he’s reaching out because it’s late in Italy.
“No, but there is something else. I got my hands on a photo that I’m not sure what to make of,” Charlie says. “It’s old, I’m thinking five years.”
“Five years?”
“I’ll show you why I think that in a second. I can’t be sure where it’s taken but I’d guess Mexico, not the states.” The screen flicks and I’m looking at a photograph where Felix is sitting on the couch. Behind him stand two guards. There’s a couple beside them. The woman is heavily pregnant. But it’s not her that has piqued my curiosity.
“Is that Jericho St. James?”
I peer closer, try to figure out what’s changed because yes, that’s him. But not. This man is younger, obviously. And his expression is happy. He has his arm wrapped possessively over the shoulders of the woman.
“Is he married? Is that his wife?”
“No, not married. At least not that I could find. And no kids. I’m doing more digging but look at the far corner. I’m going to zoom in.”
I look and am again surprised. “Mara?” She’s sitting across the table from a woman and they’re rolling dough together. She’s smiling at the woman, and it looks like one of her legs is mid-swing beneath the table. “She can’t be more than fourteen, fifteen.” Which explains the timeline Charlie came up with.
Matthaeus gets up, goes to the door, and instructs a soldier to get Mara. He returns with her a few minutes later.
“What is it?” she asks anxiously.
I turn the screen to show her the photograph. “Do you remember this?”
She walks to the desk, peers down. Her face is a little paler when she looks back up at me.
“That’s Flora,” she says, pointing to the woman sitting across from her. Tears fill her eyes. “She left a few weeks after that day. Just disappeared. Never even said goodbye.”
I watch her, wanting nothing more than to go to her, take her in my arms and tell her it will be all right.
“I think he hurt her,” she adds.
Fuck. I hate this. I hate this so much.
“Do you know this couple?” Matthaeus asks as if sensing my reluctance to bring her any more pain.
“I don’t know them, but she was nice. She let me feel the baby kick.”
“Any idea who she is?”
“Kimberly. It’s what he called her. This man.” She points to Jericho St. James. “I think he was her husband.”
“Was?”
“She died soon after that day.”
“How do you know that?”
“Felix told me when I asked if I’d get to see her and the baby. Kimberly had said I could visit. She thought it was going to be a girl but wasn’t sure.”
Listening to her, I hear how young she is in so many ways. How inexperienced even given what she’s been through. She has been almost sheltered in her captivity and at the same time, so not. Guilt gnaws at my gut. She shouldn’t be here. She should be home. Out of harm’s way. It was selfish of me to bring her.
But I shove those thoughts aside and something else nudges at me. I ask a question I’m not sure I want the answer to.
“Did Felix have anything to do with her death?”
She shifts her gaze to me, and her eyes darken. “I don’t know why you need to ask. He had everything to do with it.”