Chapter Two
"All right. Sounds great," Brady said agreeably into the phone cradled within his strong grip. When he heard the dial tone on the other end, he leaned back in his black leather chair and put his feet up on his desk, sighing in satisfaction. He crossed his feet at his ankles, pleased with the completion of his plans for later that night. "Great," he whispered again to himself, smiling smugly while he contemplated the evening ahead of him. An evening especially prepared for his lovely wife.
At the thought of his wife, Brady glanced down at the gold ring on his left hand, the physical symbol of their unbreakable bond. He moved it around on his finger, thinking about all of the amazing hurdles that he and Chloe had overcome in order to be together, proving without a doubt to anyone that they were simply meant to be.
Shaking his head at his thoughts, grinning at his loving feelings for Chloe, he rose from his chair. "Time to get back to work," he mumbled before grabbing the report on his desk that Greta had requested earlier and cheerfully whistled on his way out of his office.
When he reached Greta's office, Brady knocked on the closed door. When he didn't receive an answer, he shrugged his shoulders once before opening the door and striding inside. "Greta?" he called out before approaching her desk swiftly, lifting the report in the air. "I have that report you wanted."
Arching an eyebrow at her absence, he walked around her desk and placed the report on top, offering a casual glance at her computer screen. The message that Greta had recently called up grabbed his attention, causing him to do a double take. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration while he unrepentantly read Greta's personal email.
"Brady! What are you doing?" Greta called out from the doorway, her hands placed sharply on her hips, vibes of annoyance radiating from her. She swallowed a gasp of shock when she figured out the reason for Brady's intent perusal with her computer.
Brady lifted his head and faced Greta, his earlier good mood fading away quickly. He studied her carefully, finally noting the abnormally pale skin and the large dark circles under her eyes that makeup could not hide, obviously proving the sleepless nights she had been having recently. Now he knew that those sleepless nights had nothing to do with a new baby in the house. Pointing at the computer screen, he asked her, his voice threaded with concern and accusation, "What the fuck is this?"
Greta's eyes widened at his fierce question. "Damn," she muttered to herself before she turned and shut the door behind her. She continued to inwardly curse herself for not shutting down her email before she had left the office. Taking in a deep breath, she attempted to brush it off. A useless endeavor, she knew, but she was desperate. "It's nothing, Brady, really. Nothing at all."
Brady gave a sharp burst of laughter. "Nothing? Right, Greta. I suppose that's why your paler than death right now, why your hands in shaking, why you look like you've seen a ghost. Tell me what gives. Now." He sent her a narrow gaze, his features settling into stony lines while he waited in grim impatience for Greta's answer.
Greta stifled a cringe before she offered Brady an overly bright smile and a very weak attempt at a laugh. "Come on, Brady. There's no need for the third degree here," she said with forced gaiety and spread her arms before her in supplication.
He studied her features again, easily seeing past Greta's weak façade. With a curt nod, he said decisively, "I think there is, Greta." Brady approached Greta and held onto her arm, guiding her forcefully to the computer screen.
"There's no need," Greta sputtered out, struggling while she tried to pull her arm back from Brady's unshakable grip.
Brady stopped for a moment, offering his sister-in-law a raised eyebrow that easily conveyed his feelings on the manner. When Greta stopped her resistance, clearly realizing the futility of her defiance, Brady began moving forward with her again. He soon had her placed in front of her email and calmly ordered her, "Read it. Aloud."
Greta turned large pleading eyes on Brady, only to meet his impassive gaze. On a sigh, Greta turned back and read the words that had just recently sent her to the bathroom to try and compose herself, the words sending renewed fright coursing through her veins. "Your time's coming, Princess."
"What does that mean?" Brady bit out angrily, pointing at the words on the screen.
"I don't know," Greta answered and lowered her head from his penetrating gaze, careful not to meet Brady's eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit that gave her away immediately.
Brady recognized the ploy. Frowning at her, he stated strongly, "Greta, you're lying. Now you are going to tell me. What the hell is going on here?"
Closing her eyes in defeat, Greta slowly sank down into her chair. She dropped her head in her hands before sharing the information that had been giving her nightmares for nearly two weeks. "Promise me something first, Brady. You canNOT tell anyone. Not Chloe, Ethan, your father. Anyone. Got it? I will not let them in on this." She brought her head up, fierce determination evident in every line of her face.
Brady released a sigh before he reluctantly gave in to Greta's demands. "Yeah, I do. I have a feeling this is gonna be one of those promises I regret." He leaned against her desk and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes level on hers. "All right, Greta. Word of honor. Now tell me everything."
Nervous energy vibrated through Greta's body. Unsatisfied with her current position, she pushed herself up from the chair and began nervously pacing in front of Brady, who watched each movement like a hawk. After running her hands through her hair and deciding the best way to explain her ongoing daily horror, she walked over to her filing cabinet. Brady viewed her curiously while she extricated a file folder from the cabinet. Greta tapped it against her hands before walking back to him. "Read it, Brady," she said hoarsely. "It'll explain everything." She held the folder out towards him, her mouth set in a grim slash.
Brady glanced at her before accepting the folder. He opened the folder, his eyes immediately falling on a copy of a previous email that she had printed off of her computer. He frowned after noting that the email was sent yesterday. "Soon," he read aloud, keeping one eye on Greta's reaction.
Greta shivered, clearly frightened by the entire situation. She gestured wildly towards the folder, explaining in low undertones, "There's more, Brady. I started getting them about two weeks ago."
Brady turned his attention back to the folder. He placed it on the desk and flipped through it, reading the different messages aloud. "Forsaken. Beware. Rejected love. You have disappointed me. Sadness. Submission. Conquest. Stupidity. Caution. Resentment." Then, he picked up the very first message. "Prepare yourself." He paused for a moment, the short messages causing his blood to turn to ice, before he looked at Greta.
Greta saw the decision in his eyes before he spoke. She held up her hand sharply, preventing him from speaking. "Don't, Brady. Don't. You promised. I will not bring in Ethan in on this. I won't put him in any danger."
"Greta," Brady began only to have her interrupt.
"I said no, Brady. No. My problem. My decision." Her eyes glinted with steely determination. "It's bad enough that you know. I won't tell anyone else about this. Got it?" Even though her words were strong, her voice shook with the fear that consumed her.
Brady threw the folder down on the desk in disgust before he approached Greta warily, thinking of the best possible way to get the headstrong woman to see reason. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. When she refused to met his gaze, he placed his hand under her chin and forced her face up to his. "Greta, these are threats. Veiled threats, but threats nonetheless. And we both have a sneaking suspicion who they are from."
On a ragged breath, her fear finally marked clearly on her face, Greta whispered in near desperation, "My father." She tapped her finger nervously on the computer screen, the most recent words mocking her with their implied threats, silently agreeing with Brady.
The thought of Stefano DiMera forcing his way back into their lives again caused frustrated anger to flood Brady's veins. His eyes deepened with livid fury before he ordered Greta, "Dammit, Greta! You need to tell Ethan. The sooner, the better. He knows people, Greta. He has some serious connections from his time as an ISA agent. Pull him in on this."
Greta recognized the common sense in Brady's words but her own fear overrode it. Fear for her husband's safety. And the safety of her son. "Oh, god! All right, all right, I will, Brady. But not yet. I want to wait, see if anything else comes to me. If it does, and I know for certain that it is my father, then I'll let him know."
Brady studied Greta intently, clearly unsatisfied with her answer. "I don't think so. One day, Greta. That's all I'll give you before I go to Ethan with this." He showed no repentance for going back on the promise he had made her earlier, not when something so important was at stake.
Greta opened her mouth to argue but shut it with a sharp snap after correctly reading the stony gaze on the man's face in front of her. She realized quickly that she was lucky to get a one-day reprieve from Brady. "One day, Brady. Fine, I'll tell Ethan. Tomorrow." Her eyes glazed over with worry, clearly not looking forward to sharing the disturbing news with her husband.
Brady stared intently into Greta's face, searching for signs of her capitulation. When he was satisfied that she was telling the truth, he nodded curtly before admitting hoarsely, "I hate to even give you one day, Greta."
With a return of the tenacious that was such a huge part of her, Greta declared strongly, "Well, I'm not going to tell him today. That's all there is to it. Tomorrow will be soon enough to start worrying him with this." Then, Greta forced another overly bright smile to her face, remembering the special day for her sister and Brady. "Now, Brady, don't let this spoil your day. You and Chloe have a wonderful occasion to celebrate."
"No, I won't let it," Brady assured her slowly, still uneasy with their decision to wait one day before she informed Ethan of the threatening emails. He walked to her door. When he reached the doorway, he paused and threw Greta a concerned look. "One day," he reiterated before exiting, the words from Greta's emails haunting him with each step he took.