Chapter 9 - The Chalet on Lake Lucerne
The snow-capped peaks of the Swiss Alps rose like jagged teeth against the pale, freezing dawn of Zurich.
Our black helicopter touched down smoothly on the private helipad of the Lucerne chalet, kicking up a blinding cloud of powdery white snow that quickly settled against the dark pine trees surrounding the property.
The air was bitterly cold, biting at my face as I stepped out of the aircraft holding Leah securely inside my heavy wool coat. She burrowed against my chest, her big dark eyes blinking sleepily at the towering white mountains.
Damian stepped down behind me, followed by four tactical operatives dressed in unmarked winter gear.
The heavy oak front doors of the chalet opened before we even reached the stone steps. Standing in the entryway, leaning heavily on an ornate mahogany cane, was an elderly man with sharp, hawklike features and eyes that mirrored the exact cold gray of Damian’s.
Victor Caruso.
He didn't look like a terrified criminal cornered by his enemies. Instead, a thin, amused smile curled his wrinkled lips as he looked out at us over the snowy courtyard.
“Nephew,” Victor called out, his voice smooth and carrying effortlessly across the frozen air. “I heard your home in the states suffered a rather unfortunate combustion last night. And yet, you brought company all the way to Switzerland. How delightfully domestic.”
Damian walked up the stone steps, his face carved from ice, stopping just two feet away from his uncle.
“You played a very dangerous game, Victor,” Damian said, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. “You thought you could steal my bloodline and manipulate my empire from behind a Swiss bank account.”
Victor chuckled, leaning slightly on his cane. “Business, Damian. Nothing personal. A syndicate cannot be run by a man distracted by a ghost of a dead wife and a phantom child. I simply corrected an imbalance in the succession.”
“You didn't correct anything,” a voice interrupted sharply from behind Damian.
Victor blinked, his gaze shifting past his nephew to where I stood on the threshold, stepping out of the shadows of the heavy doorway with Leah still cradled safely in my arms.
Victor’s smug smile faltered for a fraction of a second as he took in my face, the exact bone structure and fierce expression of the mother he thought he had successfully erased two years ago.
“Who is this?” Victor muttered, his eyes narrowing.
May you like
“This is Clara,” Damian said, stepping aside to let me stand directly in front of the patriarch of the Caruso empire. “The woman you tried to destroy. And the mother of the heir you thought you had stolen.”
---
