That cracked something open.
Kristoff had wanted children for so long, and now that he’d finally found the love of his life and had a large family, this woman would destroy it with a smile on her face.
I couldn’t let that happen.
“Your curiosity will fade,” she continued, her goonie still pressing the gun firmly against my temple. “But if you don’t stop, it’ll destroy everything. Families. Lovers. Futures.” She leaned closer, her mouth near my ear now. “If you’re not careful, you’ll watch your family crumble one by one. I’ll leave you for last so you can witness it all unfold.”
My heart stuttered. “What?”
“Oh, Sophie. You don’t actually think I’ll let you win, do you?” She laughed, the sound eerie in the echo of the garage. “Maybe you should run somewhere far away wheremymafia won’t find you.”
Jesus Christ.
The woman had lost her mind. Her mafia? What in the hell did that even mean?
“I’ll give you a little hint”—one of her goonies spoke up for the first time—“we operate in all fifty states.”
The realization came like punctuation at the end of a sentence: I had to leave. Not for her or me, but for my family’s safety.
“Yes, Sophie, be smart.” Jacqueline must have read it in my expression, because she stepped back and her men did the same. The gun was no longer at my temple, but I felt it there just the same.
She turned to leave, but paused ten feet away.
“Start over,” she said. “Somewhere you can pretend none of this ever happened. We’ll be watching you. Make one wrong move, and you and your family will no longer have a future.”
Then she was gone, leaving behind the sickly smell of her perfume.
The doorbell yanked me out of the memory I was desperate to forget.
Glancing at the clock, I noted it was three in the afternoon. My party was about to start.
I squared my shoulders, adorned my best and bravest mask, then took a deep breath in.
Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.
I slowly exhaled.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I headed to the front door.
Ding. Dong. Bang. Bang.
Okay, now I was getting pissed off. My guests should learn patience. I was tempted to move even slower.
I was just about to reach for the safety latch when another string of banging sounded.
“Come on, Soph,” Violet, or Dr. Freud as she often went by, shouted. “I don’t want to stand in your hallway all night.”
I swung open the door and came face-to-face with my friend.
“For the love of God, are you trying to break my door down?” I grumbled, wrenching it open just as another aggressive knock rattled the frame. I barely finished the sentence before I was pulling her into a hug. “Besides, who buzzed you in?”
My four-story building had an exterior entrance and was locked at all times. There was a porter Monday through Friday, but on the weekend, we were on our own, and owners were extra cautious about buzzing anyone in.
“I’m very convincing,” Violet announced. “As you well know.”
I rolled my eyes, squeezing her tighter.
