Chapter 11
The heavy silence in the grand bedroom was suffocating. Maya stood frozen beside the plush bed, the crumpled receipt burning a hole in her palm. The soft, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping child offered a stark contrast to the violent hammering of Maya’s heart against her ribs. She looked up at Dante Russo, his towering frame filling the doorway, his pale gray eyes analyzing her every micro-expression with terrifying precision.
"Is there a problem, Maya?" Dante repeated, his deep voice smooth but laced with a lethal undercurrent. He stepped fully into the room, the door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality.
Maya instinctively stepped backward, putting the bed and the sleeping child between them. She crumpled the receipt tighter in her fist, hiding it behind her back. "No," she lied, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "No problem. Just... getting her settled."
Dante didn't stop walking. He moved with the silent, predatory grace of a man who owned everything in his line of sight. He stopped a few feet from the bed, his gaze drifting from Maya to his daughter, then back to the hand hidden behind Maya’s back.
"You are a terrible liar, Maya," Dante observed quietly. He held out his large, calloused hand. "Show me what you found."
Maya’s breath hitched. She thought of Tony’s warning back at the restaurant. Dante Russo is death, Maya. If this receipt connected her to Elena’s disappearance, he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate her. But if she refused, he would take it by force.
Trembling, Maya slowly brought her hand forward and placed the crumpled receipt onto his palm.
Dante smoothed the paper out under the light of the bedside lamp. He read the front, his brow furrowing slightly at the list of baking supplies. Then, he flipped it over. The harsh, black ink spelling out She knows everything seemed to scream off the page.
Dante’s expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Where did you get this?"
"Sophia was holding it," Maya whispered quickly, panic lacing her words. "It fell out of her hand while she was sleeping. I swear to you, Mr. Russo, I have never seen that paper before in my life."
"It has the logo of Sweet Haven Bakery," Dante noted, his eyes locking onto hers, reading her fear. "The exact bakery you've been saving up to buy. Coincidence?"
"I don't know!" Maya pleaded, tears pricking her eyes. "I just wanted to bake, Mr. Russo. I don't know anything about your wife, or your syndicate, or why your daughter was holding that receipt."
Dante stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. His pale gray eyes searched her face for any sign of deception. Finally, he folded the receipt and placed it into the breast pocket of his charcoal suit.
"I believe you," Dante said softly, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Because if you were involved in taking Elena, you wouldn't be standing here shaking like a leaf. You would be dead."
May you like
Maya exhaled a shaky breath, slumping slightly against the edge of the bed. "Then how did Sophia get it?"
"That," Dante said, his voice hardening into a vow of violence, "is exactly what we are going to find out. Sleep here tonight. Lock the door. Tomorrow, we go to Brooklyn."
