“What do you mean we're not going home?”
“It isn't safe.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
“Tonight I do.”
“No. You don't.”
Anthony moved toward the windows and pulled the blinds closed.
Another man locked the front door.
My heart started pounding.
“What is happening?”
Moretti came toward me.
“There are men outside who came here because of me.”
“Then we leave through the back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because they're watching it.”
Chloe looked between us.
“Mommy?”
I forced my voice to soften.
“Everything's okay.”
Moretti looked at her, then at me.
“Office. Upstairs.”
I didn't move.
“Grace.”
“Are those men going to hurt us?”
“If they know you're here, maybe.”
That was all I needed.
I picked Chloe up.
“Where's the office?”
We hurried upstairs.
Moretti opened a door.
Inside was a desk, a couch, a bathroom and a small television.
He crouched in front of Chloe.
“This is a secret room tonight.”
Chloe's eyes widened.
“Like spies?”
“Exactly.”
“What do spies do?”
“They stay quiet and listen to their mothers.”
She nodded solemnly.
“I can do that.”
He looked at me.
“Lock the door after I leave.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Make sure nobody comes upstairs.”
He started to leave.
“James.”
It was the first time I'd called him that.
He stopped.
“Why are they here?”
“Business.”
“What kind of business requires armed men?”
His face gave me the answer he wouldn't.
I looked toward Chloe.
Then back at him.
“I don't want my daughter involved in whatever your life is.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then get us out.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“As soon as I know you can walk out that door safely.”
I wanted to argue.
But I could hear voices downstairs.
Moretti closed the door.
I locked it.
For ten minutes, there was nothing.
Then footsteps.
Chloe squeezed my hand.
“Is Santa still coming?”
I looked at her.
“Of course.”
“How will he know we're here?”
“He knows.”
Suddenly a man's voice echoed from downstairs.
“James!”
I stood.
Moretti answered.
“Victor.”
“You locked the door.”
“Restaurant's closed.”
“So open it.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then glass shattered.
Chloe jumped.
I covered her ears.
Downstairs, furniture moved.
Men shouted.
But no gunshots came.
Then another voice.
“You want a war over a restaurant?”
Moretti answered calmly.
“No. I want you to understand that there is a child upstairs.”
A pause.
“So?”
My blood turned cold.
Moretti's voice changed.
“So if one bullet enters this building tonight, what happens afterward will be on you.”
The silence that followed was worse than shouting.
Finally the other man laughed.
“You've gotten soft, James.”
“Maybe.”
Then Moretti said something I never forgot.
“But don't mistake restraint for weakness.”
Several minutes passed.
A car engine started.
Then another.
Eventually there was a knock on the office door.
Three knocks.
“Grace. It's me.”
I opened it.
Moretti stood outside.
His knuckles were bleeding.
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Your hand says otherwise.”
He looked down.
“Occupational hazard.”
Chloe peeked around me.
“Did you fight the bad guy?”
Moretti looked at her.
“No.”
She studied his bleeding hand.
“You're lying.”
Anthony coughed to hide a laugh.
Moretti stared at him.
“Not one word.”
Chloe came closer.
“You need a Band-Aid.”
“I'll survive.”
She frowned.
“That's what Mommy says when she needs one.”
Five minutes later, James Moretti—the man people were apparently afraid to name too loudly—was sitting on his office couch while my six-year-old daughter put a Christmas-themed Band-Aid across his knuckles.
“There.”
He examined it.
Tiny snowmen covered his hand.
“Very intimidating.”
“You're welcome.”
Then Anthony appeared in the doorway.
“Boss.”
His expression was serious.
Moretti stood.
“What?”
Anthony looked at me.
Then back at him.
“We checked the plates on the car Russo's men used.”
“And?”
Anthony hesitated.
“One belongs to Bennett Property Management.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you say?”
Anthony looked at me.
“Bennett Property Management.”
I shook my head.
“My landlord works for them.”
Moretti's eyes narrowed.
“Who owns your building?”
I swallowed.
“I don't know.”
He pulled out his phone.
“What's the address?”