Chapter 6 - THREE KNOCKS IN THE DARK
The air inside the study turned to ice.
Duca’s handsome face hardened into a mask of pure steel. The exhaustion vanished from his eyes, replaced by the lethal, hyper-focused predator who had survived back-alley ambushes and boardroom betrayals alike.
He didn't hesitate. In one smooth, lightning-fast motion, Duca reached down, caught Mia by the waist with an arm thick enough to lift a grown man, and swept her behind him. He placed his massive frame squarely between the little girl and the wall of books, his boots planting wide on the parquet floor in an athletic, defensive stance.
He leaned down, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp, stunned whisper.
“What did you say?”
Before she could answer, Mia reached out with both hands and grabbed the fabric of his white dress sleeve, bunching the expensive cotton in her small, desperate fists. She tugged down hard.
“Listen,” she breathed.
Duca froze. He held his breath.
The room fell into absolute, suffocating stillness. The crackle of the embers seemed to dull; the hum of the distant streetlamp outside vanished. Every molecule of air in the library went dead.
Then, from the dark, hollow void behind three inches of solid mahogany and the brick foundation of the manor—
KNOCK.
It was distinct. Heavy. The sound of bare knuckles striking timber from the inside.
KNOCK.
Duca’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating in the warm lamplight.
KNOCK.
May you like
A desperate, deliberate cadence. Three strikes. A human plea.
Against Mia’s back, startled by the hollow vibration traveling through the floor and the wall, baby Lily let out a sharp, waking whimper, her little arms flailing out from the pink carrier as she began to cry.
