Chapter 3 - THE SILVER CANE
“Put the gun down, Marco.”
My voice didn't sound like my own. It sounded hollow, ripped from a throat that had forgotten how to breathe.
Marco didn't lower his weapon. “Boss. Who is this?”
“It's my uncle,” I said, never taking my eyes off the man by the elevator. “Silvio Moretti.”
Silvio smiled, leaning heavily on his silver-handled cane. He hadn't aged a day in twenty years, not since the night he was supposedly gunned down in a rival ambush outside a restaurant in Little Italy.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I said, stepping between him and Lily’s wheelchair.
“Many people are supposed to be dead, Dominic,” Silvio replied smoothly. His dark eyes darted toward the little girl. “But we adapt. We survive. Don’t we, Lily?”
Lily shrank back in her chair, clutching her pink juice box. She didn't know the man, but children have an instinct for monsters.
Clara immediately moved behind the wheelchair, gripping the handles tightly. Her knuckles were white.
“How do you know her name?” I demanded.
“Because I arranged for her to be placed at St. Catherine's,” Silvio stated calmly, stepping further into the penthouse. “When Julian’s car exploded, the syndicate needed to believe his entire bloodline was wiped out. It was the only way to protect her.”
I stared at him. The betrayal tasted like ash in my mouth.
“Julian was your nephew. You let me bury an empty casket! You let me grieve for five years, thinking my brother burned to death, and you knew he had a child?”
“It was necessary,” Silvio said, stopping a few feet away. “If the Commission knew Julian had an heir, they would have hunted the girl down. She was safe at the orphanage. Hidden.”
“Then why are you here now?”
Silvio’s smile vanished. The grandfatherly facade melted, revealing the ruthless mobster I remembered from my childhood.
“Because she isn't safe anymore,” Silvio said coldly. “Someone broke into St. Catherine's last night. They tore apart Sister Mary's office. They were looking for the girl’s admission files.”
My heart stopped.
I spun around to look at Clara.
Clara was staring at the floor, tears silently sliding down her cheeks.
“You knew,” I whispered to the physical therapist. “You knew who Lily was this whole time.”
Clara looked up, her hazel eyes filled with terror.
“Sister Mary told me,” Clara sobbed softly. “She told me to watch over Lily. To make sure nobody ever asked questions about her past.”
“Then why did she bring me the pink envelope?” I demanded, pointing at the invitation still sitting on the coffee table. “Why did she approach me in the hallway?”
“I didn't tell her to do that!” Clara cried, moving protectively in front of Lily. “Lily saw your picture in the newspaper. She recognized your face from a photograph her mother hid in her baby blanket. She thought you looked like her father.”
My chest heaved. I looked down at the six-year-old girl in the purple wheelchair.
She was my blood. The only piece of my brother left in the world.
“Dominic,” Silvio interrupted, tapping his silver cane against the marble floor. “The men who broke into the orphanage weren't common thieves. They left a calling card.”
Silvio reached into his tailored jacket and pulled out a small, heavy object. He tossed it to me.
I caught it in one hand.
It was a solid gold coin, stamped with a black eagle.
The seal of the Falcone family.
Our oldest rivals. The family I had signed a blood truce with ten years ago.
“Victor Falcone knows she’s alive,” Silvio said grimly. “And he knows she’s here in your penthouse. Which means he knows the truce was a lie.”
“The truce held for a decade,” I growled, crushing the gold coin in my massive fist. “Why would Victor break it now over a little girl?”
“Because Julian didn't just die in that car explosion,” Silvio said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “He stole something from Victor that night. Something worth a hundred million dollars.”
I froze. “What?”
“A ledger,” Silvio said. “The master accounts for Victor’s offshore political bribes. Without it, Victor can't access his hidden funds. He’s been hunting for it for five years.”
Silvio pointed his silver cane directly at the silver lion bracelet on Lily’s tiny wrist.
“Julian hid a key inside that bracelet before he died,” Silvio said. “The key to a safety deposit box containing the ledger.”
My blood ran ice cold.
I looked at the heavy silver lion clasp on Lily’s wrist.
“You didn't hide her in an orphanage to protect her,” I realized, the horror dawning on me. I stared at my uncle with pure, unadulterated disgust. “You hid her because you didn't know where the ledger was. You were waiting for the key to surface.”
Silvio didn't deny it. He simply adjusted his silk tie.
“Give me the bracelet, Dominic. It’s family business.”
“She is family business!” I roared, stepping forward.
Marco raised his gun, aiming it directly at Silvio’s chest.
“You’re not taking the bracelet,” I said softly, my voice laced with venom. “And you’re not touching my niece.”
Silvio sighed, looking genuinely disappointed.
“I was hoping you'd be reasonable, Dominic. But you always were too sentimental.”
Silvio raised his silver cane and twisted the handle.
A hidden mechanism clicked.
He didn't pull out a sword. He didn't pull a gun.
He pressed a button.
Instantly, a deafening explosion rocked the penthouse. The massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows shattered inward.
I dove over Lily’s wheelchair, shielding her tiny body with my own as glass rained down on us like shrapnel.
May you like
Through the ringing in my ears, I heard the heavy, rhythmic thud of tactical boots entering through the destroyed balcony.
Victor Falcone’s men were already here.
