SECRETS BEHIND DUSTS

CHAPTER THREE

★ Playground – Midday ★

The sun hammered down on the schoolyard, children's laughter bouncing off brick walls. Isadora, pigtails bobbing, chased a butterfly across the grass, her delighted giggles carrying on the breeze.

Alma, the family's trusted housemaid, watched from a nearby bench, her eyes sharp and vigilant. Rafael's warning from that morning still echoed in her mind: *If they want to hurt me, they'll come through what I love most. Trust me, Alma, keep my princess safe.*

A maintenance worker lingered by the side gate, dressed in blue overalls with a cap pulled low over his face. He held a clipboard, but his eyes weren't on the fence he was supposedly inspecting. They were locked on Isadora.

He slipped the latch and stepped inside, moving with calculated precision.

Alma's instincts flared. Something was wrong.

"Isadora! Come here, now!" she barked, already moving toward the child.

The man's hand went to his coat, reaching for something.

Before he could pull it out, two men in plain clothes burst from opposite corners of the playground. Rafael's secret guards. They tackled the intruder, slamming him to the ground. A syringe skittered across the pavement, stopping inches from Isadora's sneaker.

Screams erupted. Teachers rushed forward, ushering children inside. Alma scooped Isadora into her arms, the little girl trembling but unharmed.

"It's okay, piccola," Alma whispered, holding her tight. "You're safe. I've got you."

Within minutes, Rafael's phone buzzed with an encrypted message: *Target attempted. Failed. She's safe.*

He read it twice, his expression carved from stone. Then he pressed a button on his desk intercom.

"Find out who sent him," he said, his voice low and deadly calm. "And burn everything they love."

---

★ Rafael's Office – Dusk ★

The office fell silent except for the slow tap of my pen against mahogany. Outside, violet twilight bled into night. Alma had confirmed Isadora was safe, but that did nothing to calm the fire burning in my chest.

I stared at surveillance photos spread across my desk. Nicolas stood nearby, arms crossed, waiting.

"Name," I growled.

"Jared Vaskov," Nicolas said. "Ex-intelligence, freelance operative. Used to run gun rings for the Dolcini family. Vanished a year ago... until today."

My jaw clenched. "Why her? Why Isadora?"

"Because of you. Someone wanted to send a message."

I flicked one of the photos away, my voice dropping to something darker. "Then I'll send one back. Written in blood."

I rose from my chair, the scrape of wood against marble echoing through the room. My hand gripped the edge of the desk as I stared at the screen showing the captured hitman, alive but not for long.

Nicolas's jaw tightened. "We tracked his movements. He was fast planned to be out of the city within the hour. Professional. But our men have him now. He won't talk, though. Trained, probably South African ties. Definitely hired."

"Anyone who tries to hurt my daughter doesn't get to talk," I said flatly.

I pressed a hidden button on my desk. A digital map illuminated, red markers dotting known allies and enemies across Europe.

Nicolas continued, "The contract was placed through a shell company in Tangier. Payment trail leads to Milan." He paused. "And it loops back to someone connected to the Morettis."

My eyes snapped to his. "The Morettis."

He nodded. "This wasn't random, Rafael. Someone's testing you. Seeing how far they can push before you break."

A cold smile touched my lips. "Then they're about to learn exactly how far I can go."

I clicked on a marker. A warehouse outside Milan flared red on the screen.

"Send a team," I ordered. "I want every Moretti operation within a hundred miles to feel this. Start with their distribution centers. Make it loud. Make it clear."

"And triple security around Isa," I added. "No one gets within fifty yards of her without being vetted. If anyone else comes near my daughter, I want them identified and eliminated before they take a second breath."

"Understood," Nicolas said. "And the hitman?"

My smile turned vicious. "I'll handle him personally. Let the Morettis wait... they won't know when or how the hammer falls. That's the point."

I unlocked the weapons cabinet, the scent of gun oil filling the air. I took my engraved Beretta. a reminder to anyone who saw it that underestimating me was fatal.

"Prep the jet, Nicolas. We leave in two hours."

"Understood."

I turned to Alma, who had been standing quietly near the door. "If anything happens to her while I'm gone.."

"I'll die before I let that happen," she said firmly.

"Good." My eyes were cold. "Because if you don't, I'll kill you myself."

She nodded, understanding the weight of my words.

I turned back to the screen, watching Jared Vaskov struggle against his restraints. A plan was already forming after I was done with him, I'd leave his ID and a photo of Isadora at a Moretti front. A warning they couldn't ignore.

I am the shadow that comes for those who threaten what's mine.

---

★ Klein Mansion – Late Night ★

*Cassie's POV*

"Promise me you'll never leave me..."

The words echoed softly through the fog of my mind, fragile as the fading light of dusk. I could still feel Valentina's small hand clutching mine, warm and steady.

Her eyes were pools of comfort, deep, sincere, full of unspoken love. We stood in a meadow drenched in sunlight, where wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze and the scent of fresh grass filled the air. It was the world I wanted to stay in, where childhood innocence was eternal.

"I promise, Cass," Valentina whispered, her voice wrapping around me like a shield. "I'll always be here."

But then the sunlight dimmed, shadows creeping across the field like ink spilled on canvas.

Her face blurred, the edges melting into darkness.

A sharp, searing pain tore through my chest as I saw the bright red stain spread across her white dress, blood blooming like a cruel flower.

"No! Valentina!" I screamed, my voice breaking, tears burning my eyes. "Please don't leave me! You promised!"

Her smile was the last thing I saw before she vanished, swallowed by shadows.

---

I jolted awake, heart pounding wildly, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead. The cool night air kissed my damp skin as I tried to steady my ragged breathing. My room was cloaked in darkness, moonlight slipping through the curtains and casting pale beams across the floor.

I pressed my hands to my face, trying to remind myself it was just a dream. Valentina was gone. Had been for years. And yet the ache in my chest still felt fresh, raw.

I needed water. Air. Anything to shake off the nightmare's grip.

I slipped out of bed and padded toward the door, my bare feet silent on the cold wooden floor. The house was quiet, too quiet. Uncle Javin and Ruby had left hours ago for some charity gala. Sam was supposed to have gone with them, but he'd claimed he was feeling ill.

That should have been my first warning.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard voices drifting up from the study. Low, urgent. My uncle's study again.

*Not again. I can't risk being caught listening twice.*

But then I heard my name.

"....Cassandra is becoming a liability," Uncle Javin's voice, sharp with irritation. "The drug dosages aren't working as well anymore. She's starting to have breakthrough memories."

My blood ran cold.

"Then increase the dose," another voice said. One I didn't recognize.

"We can't. Any more and it might kill her, and she's no use to us dead. The Morettis need her alive for the claim to be legitimate."

*The Morettis. The claim. What are they talking about?*

"Then we move up the timeline," the stranger said. "Contact them tonight. Tell them we're ready to make the exchange."

"And Rafael Montez?" That was Sam's voice now, and it sent chills down my spine.

"Let him look for his treasure," Uncle Javin said dismissively. "Once we hand Cassandra over to the Morettis, she'll disappear into their world. Montez will never find the connection."

My heart hammered. They were going to hand me over to the Morettis. Whatever those people wanted with me, it wasn't good.

I had to get out. Now.

I backed away from the stairs as quietly as I could, my mind racing. The front door was always locked at night, but I knew where Uncle Javin kept the spare key hidden behind the antique clock in the living room.

I crept downstairs, avoiding the creaky floorboards I'd memorized over years of midnight wanderings. The study door was closed, voices still murmuring inside.

My hands shook as I reached for the clock, carefully lifting it to retrieve the key hidden behind..

"Going somewhere, Cassie?"

I froze.

Sam stood at the entrance to the living room, blocking my path to the door. His smile was cold, cruel.

"I... I just wanted some air," I stammered, clutching the key behind my back.

"At midnight?" He stepped closer, and I instinctively backed away. "After eavesdropping on Father's meeting?"

"I wasn't-"

"Don't lie to me." His voice dropped, became something darker. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

Panic surged through me. "Sam, please-"

"You know, you've always been a problem," he said conversationally, still moving toward me. "Father should have just handed you over years ago. But no, he wanted to drain every last bit of value from your inheritance first."

He was close now, too close. I could see the cold calculation in his eyes, the same look he'd had in the study when they talked about drugging me, controlling me.

"I won't let you leave," he said simply. "Not before Father's done with you."

He reached for my arm.

I threw the key at his face.

He flinched, and I ran.

My bare feet slapped against the wooden floor as I sprinted toward the kitchen. There was a back door there, one that led to the garden. Maybe I could.

Sam's footsteps pounded behind me, faster than I expected.

"Help!" I screamed, hoping one of the servants would hear. "Someone help me!"

But the house remained silent. Either they were asleep, or they'd been told not to interfere. Probably the latter.

I burst through the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the counter as I passed. My hands shook, but I held it out in front of me as I backed toward the door.

"Stay away from me!" I gasped.

Sam stopped, eyeing the knife. Then he smiled. "You won't use that, Cassie. You're too weak. You've always been weak."

"Try me," I said, surprised by the steel in my own voice.

For a moment, we stood frozen—me with my knife, him calculating his next move.

Then I heard the creak of floorboards behind me.

Before I could turn, strong hands grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms. The knife clattered to the floor. One of the servants, a man I'd seen around the house but never spoke to.

"Good work, Thomas," Sam said, his smile returning. "Take her to the basement. We'll keep her there until Father's ready to make the trade."

"No!" I thrashed, trying to break free. "Let me go!"

But Thomas was stronger. He started dragging me toward the basement door.

Desperation clawed at my chest. If they locked me down there, I'd never escape. I'd be handed over to the Morettis like cargo.

Like property.

No. Not again. I won't be helpless again.

I went limp suddenly, all my weight dropping. Thomas stumbled, his grip loosening for just a second.

I twisted hard, breaking one arm free, and slammed my elbow into his throat.

He gasped, releasing me.

I didn't think. I just ran.

Out the back door, into the garden, my nightgown whipping around my legs. The night air was cold, rain beginning to fall in heavy drops.

Behind me, I heard Sam's furious shouts. "After her! Don't let her leave the property!"

The iron gate at the back of the garden. it was old, rusted. Maybe I could climb it.

Rain pelted my face as I ran, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning flashing across the sky.

My fingers found the gate, slick with rain. I pulled myself up, feet scrambling for purchase on the wet iron.

A hand grabbed my ankle, yanking me down.

I fell hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Thomas loomed over me, reaching down.

I kicked. Hard. My foot connected with his knee and he stumbled back with a curse.

I scrambled to my feet, but there was no time to climb. I could hear more footsteps coming, Sam and others.

So I ran into the storm instead.

Out through a gap in the hedge, into the streets beyond. Rain soaked through my nightgown, my hair plastered to my face. Branches from overgrown bushes clawed at my arms as I darted through winding alleyways.

My lungs burned. My legs trembled. But I couldn't stop.

They were behind me. I could hear them.

I turned a corner blindly, rain blurring my vision.

And crashed into something solid.

The world tilted as I collided with a broad chest. Strong arms caught me before I could fall.

I looked up, gasping for breath, and froze.

A man. Tall, powerful, dressed in black despite the rain. Dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, sharp, unreadable, intense.

His presence was overwhelming. Dangerous. And yet...

"Please," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Please help me. They're coming...."

My vision blurred. The adrenaline that had kept me running drained away all at once, leaving only exhaustion and terror.

The last thing I felt before darkness claimed me was the stranger's arms tightening around me, steadying me as my legs gave out.

Then nothing.