By sunset, snow had begun to replace the rain.
Adrian had questioned thirteen people.
No one admitted seeing Bruno leave.
No one admitted hearing a vehicle.
No one admitted disabling the cameras.
Yet someone had done all three.
Vivienne spent most of the afternoon in the east sitting room, furious at being confined to the estate.
At four-thirty she entered Adrian’s study without knocking.
“This ends now.”
He kept reading.
“What ends?”
“This humiliating spectacle.”
Adrian turned a page.
“You’re frightening the staff. You’re treating your own family like criminals because a toddler told you a bedtime story.”
“She saw Bruno.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I saw him too.”
Vivienne froze.
He turned the tablet around.
The gas-station image filled the screen.
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But Adrian saw it.
“That could be any dog.”
“No.”
“Adrian—”
“I know my dog.”
Vivienne looked away.
“Then someone stole him. That doesn’t mean I know anything.”
“Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t.”
“You said he wandered away.”
“I said we thought he wandered away.”
“You fed him.”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Nine.”
“The kitchen staff saw him at nine-thirty.”
“Then maybe I fed him earlier.”
“Earlier you said he was waiting by the refrigerator.”
“I don’t remember the exact minute.”
Adrian watched her.
Vivienne rarely forgot anything.
Especially when forgetting benefited her.
He closed the tablet.
“You wanted me to marry you in April.”
Her expression hardened.
“What does that have to do with Bruno?”
“I’m wondering the same thing.”
She turned and walked out.
At five, Elena Alvarez requested permission to speak with him.
She entered the study holding Sofia’s hand.
The child had changed into a blue sweater and leggings.
In her other hand was the one-eared rabbit.
Elena looked frightened.
“I need to tell you something.”
Adrian gestured toward the chair.
Elena remained standing.
“Sofia said something else.”
“What?”
Elena looked at her daughter.
“Tell Mr. Moretti what you told Mommy.”
Sofia whispered, “Lady was mad.”
“Which lady?” Adrian asked.
Sofia pointed toward the hallway Vivienne had used minutes earlier.
“Miss Vee.”
Elena shut her eyes.
Adrian leaned forward.
“What did Miss Vee do?”
“She say bad dog.”
“When?”
“Night.”
“Before the men came?”
Sofia nodded.
“What else?”
The child scratched the rabbit’s cloth ear.
“She say, ‘Take him before Adrian home.’”
The room became very still.
Elena rushed to speak.
“Mr. Moretti, she is three. I don’t know what she really heard. She mixes things sometimes.”
Adrian did not look away from Sofia.
“Where were you?”
“In kitchen.”
“Why were you awake?”
“Juice.”
Elena sighed.
“She wakes for apple juice. I was cleaning the upstairs guest rooms. My sister was supposed to watch her, but Sofia apparently came downstairs.”
“Did anyone see her?”
“I don’t think so.”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
If Sofia had seen them, they might eventually realize it.
“From now on, Sofia stays with you or me.”
Elena blinked.
“With you?”
“Until this is finished.”
There was a knock.
Marco entered.
His gaze flicked toward Elena and Sofia.
“We found the SUV.”
Adrian stood immediately.
“Where?”
“Registered to a holding company. Garaged in Queens.”
“Who controls the company?”
“On paper, three layers of corporations.”
“And underneath?”
Marco looked toward Sofia.
Adrian understood.
“Elena, take Sofia to Mrs. Ferrara.”
When the door closed, Marco spoke.
“The holding company traces back to Romano Development.”
Vivienne’s father.
Salvatore Romano.
Adrian slowly sat.
Salvatore was not a gangster.
At least not publicly.
He built luxury apartment towers, funded hospitals, attended charity galas, and had once been photographed shaking hands with two governors.
He also had debts no respectable businessman should have possessed.
Adrian knew that because Adrian had quietly paid one of them.
For Vivienne.
“When did Salvatore buy the SUV?”
“Three months ago.”
“Driver?”
“Vehicle was signed out Tuesday night by Damian Rusk.”
Adrian knew the name.
Former private security.
Now Salvatore Romano’s personal fixer.
“Where is he?”
“Missing.”
“Find him.”
Marco nodded but stayed.
“What?”
“We also checked Bruno’s veterinarian.”
Adrian’s expression shifted.
“Someone called the clinic four days ago.”
“Who?”
“They asked how much sedative would be required for a mastiff his size.”
Adrian’s fingers tightened against the desk.
“Clinic give them the information?”
“No. Receptionist refused.”
“Number?”
“Burner.”
Adrian rose and looked through the window.
Snow collected on the hedges.
“Why take Bruno?”
Marco leaned against the desk.
“You already have a theory.”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“He saw something.”
“Such as?”
Adrian thought about Chicago.
He had been gone for six days.
During that time, contracts had moved through the house office. Business associates had visited. Vivienne had hosted a private dinner on Saturday.
Then he remembered something.
His safe.
Adrian crossed the office to the painting beside the bookshelves.
Behind it was a biometric vault.
He opened it.
Cash.
Documents.
Three watches.
A pistol locked separately.
Everything seemed intact.
Until he pulled out a black ledger.
The seal had been disturbed.
He flipped through the pages.
One was missing.
Marco swore softly.
“What page?”
“Accounts tied to the harbor.”
Adrian stared at the torn edge.
The page contained shipping schedules, payoffs, names and coded transfers connected to Moretti-owned docks.
Information worth millions to the wrong person.
Information that could destroy people.
“Bruno sleeps here when I travel,” Adrian said.
Marco understood.
“Whoever opened the safe had to deal with him.”
Adrian nodded.
The vault alarm had not activated.
Meaning whoever opened it had valid access.
There were only three fingerprints authorized.
Adrian’s.
Marco’s.
And Vivienne’s.
He had added hers after their engagement.
A gesture of trust.
Now he felt sick remembering it.
Marco’s face hardened.
“I never opened that safe.”
“I know.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Marco studied him.
“That leaves two people.”
Adrian closed the vault.
“Not yet.”
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Nothing.
Then breathing.
“Speak.”
A man’s voice.
“You want the dog?”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
Marco straightened.
“Yes.”
“Then stop looking at the girl.”
Adrian’s blood went cold.
“What girl?”
The caller laughed.
“You know exactly which girl.”
The line disconnected.
Adrian was already moving.
He threw open the study door.
“ELENA!”
No answer.
He ran down the hall.
“SOFIA!”
A crash sounded upstairs.
Adrian took the stairs two at a time.
Marco followed.
They reached the guest corridor.
Elena stood outside a bathroom, terrified.
“Sofia locked herself in.”
“Why?”
“She said a man looked through the window.”
Second floor.
No balcony.
Adrian entered the adjoining bedroom and looked outside.
A ladder rested against the stone wall.
Fresh boot prints marked the snow below.
Marco drew his weapon.
“West grounds!”
Security men scattered outside.
Adrian knelt at the bathroom door.
“Sofia.”
A sniffle came from within.
“It’s Adrian.”
Silence.
“The man is gone.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
The lock clicked.
Sofia emerged crying.
Adrian lifted her.
She wrapped both arms around his neck.
A folded piece of paper fell from beneath the door.
Marco picked it up.
Four printed words.
STOP ASKING ABOUT THE DOG.
Adrian stared at the message.
Then at Sofia.
Whoever had taken Bruno now knew the child had spoken.
This was no longer about finding a dog.
It was about protecting the only witness who had seen the truth.
And somewhere inside the Moretti estate, someone was still telling the kidnappers exactly what Adrian knew.
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