The Red Envelope

Before Dante could answer, a faint, rhythmic sound drifted through the crack of the bathroom door.

Soft, clicking heels against the polished mahogany floor of the hallway.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Dante’s body snapped into a state of lethal readiness.

He slipped the envelope inside his jacket, his hand dropping back to the heavy grip of his concealed firearm.

The door to the master suite creaked open.

""Dante?"" Vanessa’s voice floated through the bedroom, smooth, melodic, and entirely devoid of sleep. ""Are you back? I heard noises downstairs.""

Dante didn't move.

He glanced down at Sophie, who had instantly pressed herself flat against the baseboard, her eyes wide with sudden, genuine fright.

Dante raised one finger to his lips, echoing the exact gesture she had given him minutes earlier.

The tiny girl nodded vigorously, holding her breath.

Dante stepped silently back into the bathroom doorway, letting the heavy wooden door remain ajar by just a few inches so he could see into the bedroom.

Vanessa stood by the edge of the king-sized bed, wearing a silk robe that caught the moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

She wasn't looking at the door.

She was looking at Dante’s discarded, rain-soaked coat lying across the armchair.

Her hand was extended toward the coat’s side pocket.