CHRISTMAS EVE: THE BABY WITH MY EYES

PART 2 — THE MEN AT THE DOOR

The next knock never came.

The silence was worse.

Gavin stood in front of the door, shoulders squared, listening.

Behind him, Emily held Noah against her chest.

The baby had stopped crying.

Only the faint hum of the heater filled the room.

Gavin raised one hand.

“Don’t move.”

Emily swallowed.

“Gavin…”

“Whoever is out there knows you’re here.”

Her face went pale.

“They weren’t supposed to find us.”

The words barely left her mouth.

Gavin turned.

“Start talking.”

Emily looked down at Noah.

Her thumb brushed the baby’s cheek.

“I left Seattle three days after our divorce.”

“Why?”

“Because someone broke into my apartment.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No.”

Her voice shook.

“They didn’t have to.”

She looked toward the locked door.

“They left a pH๏τograph of you on my pillow.”

Gavin went still.

“A pH๏τograph?”

Emily nodded.

“On the back, they wrote one sentence.”

“What sentence?”

Her lips trembled.

Tell Moretti the baby isn’t safe.

Gavin’s expression changed.

For months, he had believed Emily had chosen to disappear.

Now he understood.

She hadn’t been hiding from him.

She had been protecting him from a war he didn’t even know had begun.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because I knew what would happen.”

“What?”

“You would come after them.”

“Yes.”

Emily stared at him.

“And then they would come after you.”

Gavin took a step closer.

“They already did.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t understand. These men weren’t after your money.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Then what do they want?”

Emily looked down at Noah.

“They want your son.”

A low engine growled outside.

Gavin’s head turned toward the window.

Headlights swept across the curtains.

Then another vehicle appeared.

Two.

Maybe three.

His jaw тιԍнтened.

“Stay upstairs.”

Emily grabbed his sleeve.

“No.”

“Emily—”

“I’ve spent five months running.”

Her eyes were wet, but her voice had changed.

“I won’t run tonight.”

Gavin looked at her.

For the first time, he saw the woman he had married beneath the fear.

The woman who had once stood beside him while the entire world told her to leave.

He reached for Noah.

Emily hesitated.

Then she placed the baby in his arms.

Gavin looked down.

The tiny boy opened his green eyes.

His son’s fingers curled around his thumb.

Outside, car doors slammed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Gavin lifted his gaze.

The warmth of Christmas lights disappeared from his expression.

“Lock the upstairs door.”

Emily nodded.

He walked toward the front entrance.

Before he reached it, a voice came through the wood.

“Gavin Moretti.”

He stopped.

The stranger laughed softly.

“We know you have the baby.”

Gavin’s grip тιԍнтened around the small blanket.

Another voice followed.

“You have ten seconds.”

Emily covered her mouth.

Gavin looked down at Noah.

Then at the door.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

For the first time in years, Gavin Moretti wasn’t fighting for his empire.

He was fighting for his son.

And whoever was standing outside was about to discover exactly what that meant.