Chapter 2 - The Safe Beneath the Floorboards
Ten minutes later, Ethan walked down the curved mahogany staircase carrying his school backpack and his favorite stuffed bear.
He didn't glance at Sophia, and he didn't look at the father who had commanded him to apologize for mourning his grandmother.
I took his small hand in mine, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse against my fingers.
Alexander stood blocking the front threshold, a cruel smirk playing across his lips as he held up a sleek black smartphone.
"I just instructed my bankers to freeze every joint account, Claire. You have sixty dollars in your purse and the clothes on your back."
"I don't need your bank accounts, Alexander," I said, reaching into my trench coat pocket.
"I never touched a single cent of your blood-soaked extortion money, and I certainly don't intend to start today."
I pulled out a set of brass keys that hadn't seen the light of day in over eight years.
They belonged to a modest, two-story brick brownstone in Lincoln Park that had been purchased by my maternal grandfather fifty years ago.
It was held in an independent trust under my maiden name, shielded by airtight covenants that even the Moretti legal machine couldn't pierce.
Alexander’s smirk wavered for a split second, a flicker of doubt finally crossing his dark eyes.
"You think a moldy old house will feed my son? You'll be begging for child support before the week is over."
"Ethan is my son," I whispered, stepping right up to his chest until he could feel the cold certainty radiating from my skin.
"And before this month ends, you will realize that you were never the most dangerous person in this family."
May you like
I pushed past him, opening the front door and stepping out into the brisk Chicago autumn air without looking back once.
Sophia’s triumphant laughter echoed faintly down the hallway, but it sounded like a hollow rattle to someone who had already seen the end.
