THE WIDOWS ENEMY

Chapter 5

The gunshot came before I could scream.

Dante slammed into me, knocking us both to the ground. Glass shattered above our heads. Someone shouted. Chairs scraped across the stone terrace as the guests scattered.

I felt Dante's arm around my waist.

"Stay down!"

I pushed against his chest.

"Get off me!"

"Gladly. When nobody is trying to kill you."

Another shot cracked through the garden.

Dante drew his gun and fired toward the entrance. His guards rushed the woman in the pale dress, but she was already running.

I scrambled to my feet.

"Who was she?"

"Not now."

"She was pointing a gun at me!"

"And I noticed."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me through a side door.

We ran down a narrow corridor, past a row of portraits, until we reached the stairs.

I stumbled.

Dante caught me.

For one breathless second, I was pressed against him. His hand rested on my waist, his chest rose and fell beneath my palms, and his eyes searched my face.

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head.

He looked at my mouth.

I hated that I noticed.

Then he stepped away.

"Stay here."

"No."

"Seraphina—"

"I am not going to hide while you run around pretending to be invincible."

His jaw tightened.

"Someone just tried to kill you."

"Someone has been trying to kill me for three years. I'm getting tired of it."

He stared at me.

Then, to my surprise, he laughed once.

A short, disbelieving sound.

"You are impossible."

"So I've been told."

He took my hand again.

"Come with me, then."

We reached the east wing. The guards had already secured the doors, and the lights were dim.

Dante led me into his private room and locked the door behind us.

I turned on him.

"Who was that woman?"

"I don't know."

"Stop saying that!"

He faced me.

"What do you want me to say? That I planned it? That I invited someone to shoot my wife on our wedding day?"

"Don't call me your wife like it means something."

His expression changed.

"It means something to me."

The words hung between us.

I looked away first.

I didn't want to hear anything that might make me forget who he was.

Dante crossed to his desk and removed a small key.

"There is something I need to show you."

I almost laughed.

"Another hidden room?"

"Yes."

"Of course."

He led me down the corridor to a door I had never noticed. It opened into a narrow room with pale walls, a single bed, and shelves full of books.

The room smelled faintly of lavender.

I stopped at the doorway.

"Whose room is this?"

"My sister's."

I looked at him.

"You told me she disappeared seven years ago."

"She did."

"Then why is her room still here?"

"Because I never believed she was dead."

He walked to the desk and picked up a diary.

"I found this in my father's study after he died. I have read it a hundred times. Every page is about Evelyn, but the final entry was written by Alexander."

He handed it to me.

My fingers trembled as I opened it.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

If Dante marries Seraphina, the first child they have must never be allowed to live.

I stared at the sentence.

Then I read it again.

My stomach turned.

"What is this?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"Why would Alexander write this?"

Dante's eyes remained on mine.

"That's what I intend to find out."

I dropped the diary onto the desk.

"You're telling me my dead husband was planning something involving our children?"

"Your husband wrote it. I didn't."

I stepped back.

"I am not having children with you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you know something I don't."

He moved closer.

"Because I think you do."

I slapped him.

The sound echoed through the room.

Dante's head turned slightly. He didn't touch me. He didn't even raise his voice.

I stood there, breathing hard, waiting for him to retaliate.

He looked back at me.

"Are you finished?"

I hated him.

I hated his calmness. I hated the way he could make me feel childish without saying a word.

Most of all, I hated that I wanted to touch his face.

"Tell me the truth," I whispered.

"I don't know what that diary means."

"Then find out."

"I will."

He reached for the diary.

A gunshot shattered the silence.

The lights went out.

Dante pulled me to the floor as another shot struck the wall.

I heard footsteps in the corridor. A door slammed. Someone shouted Dante's name.

He pressed a hand over my mouth.

I could feel his heartbeat against my back.

Fast.

For the first time, Dante Vescari was afraid.

Not for himself.

For me.

When the emergency lights flickered on, he rose and moved toward the doorway.

"Stay here."

I caught his arm.

"Don't leave me."

The words escaped before I could stop them.

He looked down at my hand.

Then at my face.

Something softened in his expression.

"I'm coming back."

He kissed my forehead.

It was such a gentle gesture that I almost forgot to breathe.

Then he was gone.

I stood alone in Evelyn's room, listening to the sounds of men running through the house.

A minute passed.

Then another.

I picked up the diary again.

The final page had been folded inward.

I opened it carefully.

There was another sentence beneath the warning.

If she remembers the first night, tell her the truth about the boy.

My fingers went cold.

The boy.

The boy in my dreams.

The boy holding a gun.

I turned the page.

A photograph fell onto the floor.

I bent to pick it up.

It showed Alexander standing beside a man whose face had been scratched out.

On the back, someone had written:

He was never the husband.

A scream rang through the corridor.

I ran to the door.

Dante appeared at the end of the hallway, his shirt stained with blood.

Behind him, two guards carried a body.

I knew the shape of the face before they reached me.

I knew the scar above the eyebrow.

I knew the hands.

Alexander.

My husband.

Dead for three years.

I stumbled backward.

"No."

Dante caught my shoulders.

"Seraphina—"

"No!"

The men laid the body on the desk.

The skin was pale, but the face was unmistakable.

I reached out with a shaking hand.

My fingers touched his cheek.

Warm.

Not cold.

Warm.

I jerked away.

Dante looked as if the ground had disappeared beneath him.

"I don't understand," he said.

Neither did I.

The man's chest rose.

Once.

Then again.

I screamed.

His eyes opened.

He looked directly at Dante.

And smiled.

"Hello, little brother."

Dante went completely still.

The man's gaze moved to me.

"Seraphina," he whispered. "You shouldn't have married him."

I couldn't move.

Dante's hand tightened around mine.

"Who are you?"

The man began to laugh.

Then he looked at me and said the words that destroyed everything I thought I knew.

"Ask your husband what happened to the first woman he married."