Chapter 4 – THE GUN TO HIS HEAD

“How perceptive of you, darling,” Vivienne purred.

Nicholas didn’t move.

He could smell her expensive perfume mixed with the damp air of the station.

“You always were too smart for your own good, Nicholas,” Vivienne said. “Hand over the journal.”

“You killed Domenic,” Nicholas said, his voice deadly calm.

“He was going to expose the payroll,” Vivienne sighed. “It was bad for business. My business.”

Maria stood frozen, her eyes wide with terror.

But she wasn’t looking at Vivienne’s gun.

She was looking at Vivienne’s wrist.

“You,” Maria whispered.

Vivienne glanced at her. “Excuse me?”

“The night my husband died,” Maria’s voice shook, but grew louder. “He tore a pearl bracelet off his attacker’s wrist. I found the pearls in his pocket at the morgue.”

She pointed a shaking finger at Vivienne’s wrist, where a delicate pearl chain rested.

“You killed him.”

Vivienne laughed. “He was a paramedic who knew too much. It was necessary.”

That brief moment of distraction was all Nicholas needed.

He dropped his weight, spinning on his heel.

He knocked Vivienne’s gun hand upward.

The weapon fired into the ceiling.

Nicholas slammed her against the metal lockers, disarming her in a single, fluid motion.

He pinned her by the throat.

“You brought a gun to kill me, Vivienne,” Nicholas growled. “But you forgot who I am.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed his security chief.

“Bring a car. Grand Central. We have garbage to dispose of.”

He looked at Maria.

She was breathing heavily, tears streaming down her face.

She had finally faced her husband’s murderer.

“It’s over,” Nicholas said softly to her. “She’s going away forever.”

They returned to the mansion as dawn broke.

Vivienne was locked in the basement, awaiting her fate.

The journal was secured.

Nicholas walked into the kitchen.

Lucy was sitting at the island, eating a fresh chocolate chip cookie Arthur had baked for her.

When she saw Nicholas, she didn’t run.

She held out half the cookie.

“For you, Uncle Nicholas.”

Nicholas smiled, his heart aching with an unfamiliar warmth.

He took the cookie.

Then, Arthur cleared his throat from the doorway.

“Sir. While you were gone, we found something in Miss Hart’s belongings.”

Arthur handed Nicholas a small, velvet box.

Inside was a silver child’s locket.

Nicholas opened it.

Inside was a picture of a baby girl.

And stamped on the back of the photo was a date.

Nicholas looked at Maria.

“Maria… when was Lucy born?”

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