Chapter 5 - THE LOCKET'S SECRET
I stared at the photograph inside the silver locket.
The woman in the picture had dark hair, entirely different from Vanessa’s perfectly styled auburn waves. Her face was younger, hardened, and lacked the polished, wealthy veneer of the woman who had terrorized this house.
But the eyes were exactly the same.
Cold. Calculating. Empty.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, handing him the locket.
Luca looked at the picture. His brow furrowed deeply.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“I don't know,” Luca admitted, his voice rough. “But if my mother kept this hidden in her locket, it means she knew Vanessa was lying about her identity long before tonight.”
Leo tugged on my apron.
“Hannah?” the little boy asked quietly. “Are they going to hurt Grandma?”
I knelt down and pulled him into a hug. “No, sweetie. Your uncle Luca is going to bring her back. I promise.”
Luca pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number, his thumb pressing the screen so hard it almost cracked.
“Carlo,” Luca said the moment the line connected. “Lock down the city. Vanessa Bellini just took my mother and my brother. I want every man we have looking for a black town car heading toward Sunset Pines.”
He listened for a moment.
“And Carlo? Find out who Vanessa Bellini really is.”
Luca hung up. He looked at me, the hardened mafia boss fully taking over the desperate son.
“Hannah, I need you to take Leo to the safe house downtown. My men will escort you.”
“No,” I said firmly, standing up.
Luca blinked, surprised by my defiance.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not leaving you, Mr. Moretti. Teresa told me things. Things she was too afraid to tell you. I know how Vanessa operates. I know the schedules she forced your mother to keep.”
I pointed to the silver safety deposit key still resting on the library desk.
“And we still don't know what Michael locked in the bank.”
Luca stared at me. For a moment, I thought he was going to fire me on the spot.
Instead, a faint glimmer of respect crossed his eyes.
“The bank won't open until eight in the morning,” Luca said. “Vanessa wants the marriage certificate signed by nine. We don't have time to wait for a bank teller.”
“We don't have to,” I said.
I walked over to the desk and picked up the key.
“Michael didn't use a commercial bank, sir.”
Luca frowned. “How do you know that?”
“Because Teresa asked me to iron Michael’s suits last week. I found a receipt in his pocket. It wasn't for a bank vault. It was for a private storage locker at the train station.”
Luca’s eyes widened.
“Union Station?”
I nodded. “Locker 402.”
Luca grabbed his coat. “Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, we were standing in the echoing, cavernous halls of Union Station. The midnight crowds were thin, just a few weary travelers sleeping on wooden benches.
Luca led us toward the banks of metal storage lockers near the south terminal.
He found locker 402.
He slid the silver key into the slot.
It turned.
He pulled the metal door open.
Inside was a single, thick manila envelope.
Luca pulled it out and tore the top open.
He pulled out a stack of documents.
I watched his eyes scan the pages, the ambient station light casting long shadows across his face.
“What is it?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“Birth certificates,” Luca said, his voice completely numb. “Adoption records. Arrest warrants.”
He held up a page.
“Vanessa Bellini doesn't exist. Her real name is Clara Rossi. She’s the daughter of a Syndicate boss in New York. A boss my father sent to prison twenty years ago.”
My breath caught.
This wasn't just about money.
This was revenge.
“She infiltrated the family,” Luca whispered. “She planned to marry me, transfer the assets, and then commit my mother to break my spirit.”
He flipped to the last page in the envelope.
And stopped.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca didn't answer. He stared at the piece of paper, his hands trembling slightly.
“What’s wrong?”
He slowly turned the paper around so I could see it.
It was a marriage certificate.
Dated six years ago.
Clara Rossi was legally married.
But not to Luca.
“She’s already married,” I whispered in shock.
“Yes,” Luca said, his eyes burning. “To the man who just helped her kidnap my mother.”
I stared at the name on the certificate.
The gray-haired gentleman.
The admissions director of Sunset Pines.
His name was Arthur Rossi.
He wasn't an independent evaluator.
He was her husband.
And suddenly, my cell phone began to ring.
I pulled it from my pocket. It was an unknown number.
I answered it on speakerphone.
“Hannah,” Vanessa’s cold, triumphant voice echoed through the speaker. “Put Luca on.”
“I’m listening,” Luca said, stepping closer to the phone.
“Did you find the locker?” Vanessa laughed. “I figured Michael would leave you a breadcrumb. It doesn't matter. The truth won't save your mother.”
“If you hurt her, Clara—”
Vanessa cut him off.
“Don't use that name! You have until nine A.M. to sign the trust transfer to Arthur. If the money isn't in our account by 9:01, I’m going to have Arthur inject your mother with enough neuro-sedatives to make sure she never remembers your name again.”
“Where are you?” Luca roared.
Vanessa chuckled.
“You think I’d take her to the hospital? No, darling. I brought her somewhere much closer to home.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Luca.
“Closer to home?” I asked.
Luca’s face went completely pale.
“The summer house,” he whispered. “My father’s old cabin on Lake Michigan. It’s been empty for years.”
He turned and sprinted toward the station exit.
But as we ran out into the freezing snow, a black SUV suddenly screeched to a halt right in front of us, blocking our path.
May you like
The doors flew open.
And four men with drawn weapons stepped out.
