Chapter 19
Ethan motioned for Clara to stay in the loft study, pulling the revolver from the desk drawer and flicking off the safety.
He moved silently down the wooden staircase, his eyes scanning the dimly lit living room below.
The front door of the cabin was standing wide open, letting cold night air and dead autumn leaves blow across the floorboards.
Victoria was standing near the fireplace, holding a cup of tea, looking toward the open door in confusion.
“Ethan? Did you open the door?” Victoria asked, turning around.
“Get away from the door, Vic!” Ethan shouted, raising his sidearm.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark tailored overcoat stepped through the open doorway into the warm cabin light.
He was in his mid-thirties, with sharp European features, dark hair, and an aura of absolute, unshakeable authority.
Behind him stood two large men in tactical suits, their hands resting on concealed sidearms under their jackets.
“Ethan Vance,” the man spoke in a smooth, rich voice with a faint Italian inflection.
“Put the gun away. If I wanted to harm your family, we wouldn't be having a conversation.”
Ethan kept his weapon pointed directly at the stranger’s chest.
“Who the hell are you?” Ethan demanded.
The man stepped into the center of the living room, taking off his black leather gloves with calm precision.
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“My name is Dante Moretti,” the man announced softly.
“And I believe you just opened a file that belongs to my family.”
