Chapter 5

On the fifth day, Dario didn't bring up the argument we'd had over breakfast. Instead, he said he wanted to take me to the shooting range behind the estate.

"I don't want to go."

"Then we'll stay home."

I looked up at him.

Dario seemed to read the surprise on my face. He paused for a few seconds before speaking.

"You said you don't want to. I heard you."

If Luca's plan hadn't required me to confirm when the guards at the main house changed shifts, I probably would have stayed home.

In the end, I changed my mind. "Let's go."

The shooting range sat at the foot of the hill behind the estate.

Viola had gotten there before us.

Eight months pregnant, she stood behind the safety line with a practice pistol in her hand.

I frowned. "She's eight months pregnant, and she's still doing target practice?"

Dario's expression darkened too.

"Who allowed this?"

Before the instructor could answer, Viola raised the gun.

"I have to learn how to protect a Moretti baby, don't I?"

The muzzle swept right across me.

The next second, Dario wrenched the gun from her hands.

"Empty the magazine." He tossed the gun to the instructor. "From now on, she doesn't touch a gun without my permission."

Viola's expression soured. "Afraid I'll hurt her?"

Dario pulled me behind him.

"Carrying this baby doesn't give you the right to challenge my wife."

For a moment, I saw the old Dario again.

In public, he had never let anyone challenge me.

Viola sneered. "If you protect her this much, why does she still want to leave?"

My heart lurched.

Dario's eyes went cold in an instant.

"What did you say?"

"I said—"

Viola broke off with a sudden grunt of pain.

She doubled over, clutching her lower belly, and a small bloodstain quickly spread across her skirt.

"Get a doctor!"

Everything around us erupted into chaos.

But Dario turned to me first, his gaze sweeping over my shoulders and down my arms.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Your hand."

I looked down and only then noticed that a flying scrap of metal had cut the webbing between my thumb and forefinger.

The cut was shallow and barely bleeding.

Only after making sure I was all right did Dario turn back and start giving orders.

"Get her to the clinic. Now."

The obstetrician hurried over and said the shock might have brought on signs of preterm labor.

Immediately afterward, Dario locked down the east villa and sent every doctor there. He ordered every gun at the range rechecked and every guard who'd been there questioned.

Once he'd finished giving orders, he came back to me.

"Give me your phone."

I looked up. "What?"

"Until the investigation is over, everyone's phones and other communication devices are being collected."

"Including me?"

He paused.

"Including you."

I stared at him. "You suspect me?"

"No."

"Then why are you taking my phone?"

"Because I don't know how that gun ended up pointed your way, and I don't know whether anyone outside the estate knows what happened. You're staying in the main house tonight. Don't go out. I don't suspect you. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Dario."

He gripped my shoulder.

"It's just one night."

"And if I say no?"

For a moment, he clearly hesitated.

Even so, he took the phone from my hand.

"You'll get it back tomorrow."

I didn't say another word, but a deep fear began to spread through me. It felt as though we were drifting farther and farther apart, toward a day when there would be no way back.