Chapter 2 - The Mud on the Latch
Adrian walked out the rear entrance into the freezing December rain, ignoring Vivienne’s calls behind him. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. He marched down the gravel path toward the secondary iron gate—the one Vivienne claimed had been left open.
The gate was closed now, locked securely. Adrian knelt in the mud beside the iron posts.
If Bruno had walked out on his own, there would be massive paw prints pressed into the soft dirt. Bruno weighed nearly one hundred and fifty pounds; his weight would have left deep indentations. Adrian examined the ground carefully under the beam of his pocket flashlight.
There were no dog prints.
Instead, there were deep, wide tire tracks—heavy tread patterns consistent with an armored SUV—and two sets of thick-soled boot prints pressed into the mud near the manual latch. But it was the latch itself that made Adrian’s blood run cold.
Tucked into the crevice of the steel mechanism was a tiny piece of silver foil—the tear-off strip from a pharmaceutical vial of Xylazine, a heavy veterinary sedative.
Adrian picked up the wrapper with his gloved fingers. His jaw tightened until his muscles felt like steel cables. Bruno hadn't wandered off. He had been drugged, loaded into a vehicle, and taken. And the person who facilitated it had keys to the gate and intimate knowledge of the estate’s security schedules.
He stood up and walked back into the house. Vivienne was waiting in the study, pouring herself a glass of bourbon with hands that were visibly shaking.
"Adrian," she began, attempting a soft, comforting tone. "You're getting worked up over nothing. We’ll buy another dog. A younger one. A puppy that—"
"Shut up," Adrian snapped, slamming the silver foil strip onto the mahogany desk between them.
Vivienne flinched, dropping her glass. It shattered against the hardwood, amber liquid pooling around her designer heels. "What is that?"
"That’s veterinary sedative, Vivienne," Adrian said, stepping closer until he was towering over her. "Found right by the gate. Along with tire tracks from a vehicle that shouldn't have been on my property at two in the morning. Why did you lie to me?"
Vivienne swallowed hard, backing up until her spine hit the bookshelf. "I... I didn't lie! I didn't know! Maybe someone broke in!"
"With your security code?" Adrian asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "The perimeter alarms weren't tripped. The cameras for the north gate were manually looped at midnight. Only three people have the administrative clearance to bypass those servers: me, my head of security Marco, and you."
Vivienne’s face drained of color. "Adrian, please. You have to believe me. I love you!"
"You don't love me," Adrian spat. "You love the Moretti name, the estate, and the money. Where is my dog?"
Before she could answer, the doors to the study swung open. Marco strided into the room, his tactical vest strapped tight, a iPad held in his hand. "Boss," Marco said, his expression grim. "We ran the plates on the secondary vehicle that left the perimeter at 1:15 a.m. It belongs to Romano Logistics."
Adrian turned his gaze back to Vivienne. Romano Logistics was owned by her father, Don Hector Romano—a man who had been pushing for an alliance with the Moretti syndicate for months.
"Your father took him," Adrian said softly, the realization settling in like heavy frost. "Why would Hector steal an eight-year-old dog?"
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Vivienne burst into tears, dropping her face into her hands. "Because he was looking for the drive!" she sobbed. "My father thought... he thought you hid the Syndicate's encrypted ledger inside Bruno’s tracking collar! He didn't want to hurt the dog, Adrian! He just wanted the collar!"
Adrian’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure fury. "Your father has twenty-four hours to return Bruno safely. If there is a single scratch on him, the Romano family ceases to exist in New York."
