Chapter 2 - The Ten Million Dollar Offer
The air disappeared from my lungs.
Alexander stopped moving. I felt Sofie’s warm cheek against my shoulder.
“What box?” he asked.
I answered before she could. “A toy.”
His eyes remained fixed on me. “What kind of toy?”
“An old puzzle box.”
“Where did you get it?”
“It belonged to my father.”
Something changed behind Alexander’s eyes. Not surprise. Recognition. He spoke so quietly that I almost missed it.
“Your father’s name.”
My heartbeat became painfully loud. I backed toward the heavy glass doors.
“Gabriel Moreno.”
Richard, who had been halfway through the doorway, stopped. His leather folder slipped from his fingers. Papers scattered across the floor.
Alexander’s hands fell to his sides.
I looked from one man to the other. “What?”
Richard stared at me. “Gabriel Moreno?”
“Yes.”
“The engineer?”
“My father repaired elevators and industrial locks.”
Richard shook his head. “No.”
Alexander snapped, “Richard. Shut your mouth.”
But Richard was already staring at me with pure disbelief. “Gabriel Moreno didn’t repair locks.”
My throat tightened. “What are you talking about?”
Richard looked at Alexander. Then back at me.
“Your father designed them.”
Alexander crossed the room and closed the office doors. The magnetic locks engaged with a heavy clunk.
My skin went cold. “Open those doors.”
“No one is hurting you,” Alexander said.
“That isn’t what locked doors usually mean.”
Sofie twisted in my arms. “Mommy?”
I forced myself to soften my voice. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
It wasn’t. My father had died when I was seventeen. For most of my childhood, he came home smelling like machine oil and coffee. He loved puzzles. Every birthday, he built me something impossible to open. His final gift had been a heavy black metal box.
I had never opened it. Sofie played with it constantly.
Alexander walked toward the wet bar but did not pour himself a drink.
“Where is the box now?”
“At home.”
“Bring it to me.”
“No.”
“I’ll pay you.”
“No.”
“One million.”
Richard stared at him. I almost laughed because the number was so absurd. I lived in a one-bedroom apartment where the kitchen light flickered whenever the refrigerator compressor started. My checking account contained exactly $312.
“No.”
“Five million.”
“Alexander,” Richard warned.
“Stay out of this.” Alexander stepped toward me.
I backed away. “You called my daughter entertainment five minutes ago. You humiliated me in front of a room full of people.”
His voice hardened. “Ten million dollars.”
Sofie whispered against my neck. “Mommy, why does the mean man want Grandpa?”
My eyes burned. Alexander heard her. Something in his face cracked.
May you like
For one second, I saw fear. Not fear of losing money. Fear of the dead.
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