Danielle tracked the candle’s smoke as it snaked a path across the room to the window. Her pulse flew into overdrive, her brain finally making the connection between the acetone and the flame. Tasha wasn’t going to let her out of this house alive. A gun sat on the edge of the desk, blood on the handle.
That was the sticky substance on the side of her face. If she could wriggle one of her hands out of the rope, she might be able to reach the gun. She had to keep Tasha talking. “But even if I hadn’t shown up at Benediction, wouldn’t Cole have released the money to me since I’d turned twenty-five?”
“I couldn’t take the chance he’d hold onto it. All I knew from your father were the conditions of release. That trust kept you safe because if you died, the money was to go to charity.”
She twisted her wrists back and forth, trying to break free. “So you had yourself kidnapped and blackmailed me into finding the account. Why were you so sure I’d get into the room where he kept it? How did you even know about it?”
Tasha picked up the gun and cradled it in her palm like a fragile bird. “Rinaldi had kept tabs on him for years, and I’m guessing it worked both ways. DeMarco knew Rinaldi had something to do with your father’s death, but he couldn’t prove anything. Over the years, DeMarco would drop little hints, as if daring Rinaldi to make his move.” She ran the barrel of the gun down the side of Danielle’s face. “We knew he’d do anything and everything to protect you. He was as obsessed with you as you were with him. You walking into Benediction was like handing him his fantasy on a silver platter.” She sighed wistfully. “I was going to allow you to live, but unfortunately, you stumbled on a very important list. A list that in the wrong hands would shut down my organization.” With the gun in one hand, she raised the candle in the other and neared the drapes. “So I’m sorry to tell you this dear, but your world is about to go up in flames.”
Danielle yanked at the ropes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn’t die. “Don’t do this. I promise I won’t tell anyone, and you can destroy the flash drive. Just please don’t kill me.”
“Mother?” Roman strode into the room carrying a plastic shopping bag. Shock registered on his face as he took in the scene. “What’s going on here? Why do you have Danielle bound to a chair?”
“Roman,” Tasha whispered, her eyes wide. “You weren’t supposed to come home yet. The errands I sent you on should’ve kept you out of the house until this afternoon.”
His eyes narrowed on his mother. “I’d promised Danielle I’d bring her jelly beans. I was going to drop them off to her before I started on that ridiculous list of errands you made for me. But I don’t need to explain my actions.” He dropped the shopping bag to the carpet and shook his hands in front of him. “You’re the one who is standing there with a gun.”
“Roman, your mother was working with Rinaldi,” Danielle said, using the distraction of his arrival to work harder on the bindings. “She’s been behind everything from the beginning.”
Tasha’s eyes flashed with anger before she schooled her face into that of concerned mother. “Dear, she’s lost her poor mind. You’ve seen how depressed she’s been lately. She attacked me and pulled this gun out, and I was able to overpower her and tie her to the chair. I was just about to call the police.”
Danielle had to convince Roman she was telling the truth. He was the only one who could save her and the baby. “That’s not true. She told me she wanted us to marry because then you’d inherit the money when I died in an accident. She’s part of the Russian mafia.”
Roman’s expression hardened. “You told me we left that life behind when we left Russia.”
Tasha’s innocent mask melted away, revealing the dangerously angry woman underneath. “Oh, please. Where do you think all your business in Moscow came from?” She paused. “My brothers.” At Roman’s shake of his head, she sneered. “Yes, Roman. Part of you knows it’s the truth. Part of you has always known. It’s time for you to choose between the family who loves you and this whore.”
Roman gave Danielle a sad smile before turning his attention to his mother. “Danielle is not a whore. She’s my family. Not you.”
He rushed toward Tasha. A boom reverberated against the walls, and Roman’s eyes widened as crimson stained his shirt. Then there was another boom, this one muffled as if Danielle was underwater, and Roman crumbled to the floor, his blood flowing and flowing and flowing.