Chapter 2 - THE ENVELOPE WITH NO RETURN ADDRESS
Vincent followed Fay's gaze.
The black envelope lay between them like a loaded weapon.
“Tell me,” he said quietly.
Fay swallowed.
“Donovan had one.”
Vincent didn't move.
“When?”
“Before he grabbed me.”
“What did he do with it?”
“He came out of the billiards room. He was holding something black.”
She hesitated.
“I thought it was a cigar case.”
Vincent picked up the envelope.
“Did you see who gave it to him?”
“No.”
He studied her.
“Are you certain?”
Fay nodded.
Then remembered something.
“There was a woman.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
“What woman?”
“I didn't see her face.”
“Describe what you did see.”
Fay closed her eyes.
A hallway.
The smell of perfume.
A flash of pale fabric.
“A silver dress,” she whispered. “Long sleeves. She was wearing white gloves.”
Vincent went still.
Fay noticed.
“Is that important?”
He didn't answer immediately.
Then said:
“Possibly.”
He placed the envelope in his pocket.
A moment later, his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression hardened.
“Stay here,” he said.
Fay stiffened.
Vincent noticed.
He corrected himself.
“Would you prefer to wait here for the doctor, or somewhere else?”
She glanced toward the kitchen doors.
“Here.”
He nodded.
“I'll send someone you can trust.”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Alvarez.”
Fay blinked.
The head housekeeper.
A woman who had worked for the Cross family for twenty years.
Vincent continued.
“She'll stay with you until the physician arrives.”
Fay looked down.
“Thank you.”
He turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Fay.”
She looked up.
“You did nothing wrong.”
Her throat tightened.
He left.
Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Alvarez arrived.
She took one look at Fay's face and covered her mouth.
“Madre de Dios.”
Fay tried to smile.
“It's not as bad as it looks.”
Mrs. Alvarez shook her head.
“Sit down.”
She brought warm tea.
A clean towel.
A blanket.
Then sat beside Fay without asking questions.
For the first time that night, Fay felt something she hadn't expected.
Safety.
Not complete.
Not certain.
But enough to breathe.
Meanwhile, Vincent entered his private office.
His head of security, Elias Ward, was waiting.
Vincent placed the envelope on the desk.
“Where did this come from?”
Elias frowned.
“I don't know.”
“Find out.”
Elias opened it carefully.
Inside was a single photograph.
A woman standing beside a hospital bed.
Her face was turned away.
But the hospital bracelet on the patient's wrist was visible.
MILLER, ROSE.
Vincent stared.
Fay's mother.
Then he noticed the date.
The photograph had been taken that morning.
And written across the back were five words.
SHE'S NEXT IF FAY TALKS.
Vincent's blood turned cold.
This wasn't a drunken assault.
It was a warning.
May you like
Someone had targeted Fay deliberately.
And her mother was already part of the threat.
