Chapter 12 - The Empty Basket
The hallway floors seemed to stretch infinitely as Lorenzo sprinted toward the east wing, Isabella right at his heels, her revolver already cleared of safety.
They burst through the heavy oak doors of the nursery. The room was bathed in the soft blue glow of a nightlight. Marta stood frozen by the rocking chair, her hands clamped over her mouth, staring in horror at the center of the room.
Little Emma’s bed was empty.
The heavy velvet curtains fluttered wildly in the gale blowing through the shattered windowpane. On the white lace duvet sat a single object: a silver locket, engraved with the Duca crest, cracked straight down the middle.
"They took her," Marta screamed, collapsing onto her knees as tears flooded her face. "My baby... they took my baby!"
Isabella dropped to the floor, her fingers trembling as she picked up the broken locket. Her eyes turned to obsidian. "It's a trade," she whispered, her voice dangerously thin. "They don't want the docks, Lorenzo. They want us."
Lorenzo didn't curse. He didn't smash a piece of furniture. A terrifying, surgical calm washed over him. He walked to the wall panel, popped open the hidden safe, and pulled out his heavy shoulder rig, strapping it on with mechanical precision.
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"Marta," Lorenzo said, his voice absolute and unyielding. "Lock this room. Do not open it for anyone except me and your mistress. I am going to get your daughter back."
"Take me with you," Isabella demanded, stepping into his path, her jaw set like flint. "She’s not just Marta’s child, Lorenzo. She’s the girl who brought me back to you. We hunt together."
