Chapter 8 - THE RIDE TO THE RIVER
“Surprise, Claire,” Vanessa purred from the passenger seat of the SUV as it tore out of the Moretti estate.
Answer one: Vanessa hadn't been arrested by Daniel. When the sirens went off and the lights failed, Salvatore’s men had breached the basement and freed her. She was working directly with the syndicate boss.
“You sold out your own husband,” I said, disgust dripping from my words.
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Arthur was dead weight. Literally. He locked himself in a vault with a bomb. Salvatore promised me a cut of the recovered money if I helped him navigate Luca’s security.”
Don Salvatore sat next to me in the backseat, leaning on his silver cane.
“Enough chatter,” Salvatore snapped. “Where is the money, girl?”
“Downtown,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Under the old iron bridge near the shipping canal.”
Open two: I hadn't memorized the map. The drawing was just a doodle of a truck I made when I was five. There was no money under the bridge. I was leading them into a trap. But how would Luca know where to find us?
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that Luca had noticed what I did before I surrendered.
When I tore the drawing in half in the greenhouse, I hadn't swallowed the half with the map. I had swallowed the blank half. I had secretly slipped the half with the landmarks into Luca’s jacket pocket when I touched his arm.
He was the smartest man in Chicago. He would find it.
The SUV sped through the deserted midnight streets of the city. We pulled into the dark, abandoned industrial sector near the canal.
“Stop here,” I ordered as we approached the rusting iron bridge.
The vehicle parked. Salvatore’s men dragged me out into the freezing night air.
“It’s buried near the third support pillar,” I pointed to a patch of overgrown weeds near the water's edge.
Salvatore gestured to two of his soldiers. They pulled shovels from the trunk and began digging frantically in the frozen dirt.
Vanessa stood near the edge of the canal, shivering in her ruined champagne gown.
“If the money isn't here, Claire,” Vanessa sneered, “I’m going to throw you in the river myself.”
The men dug for ten minutes. The hole was three feet deep.
“Boss,” one of the soldiers said, resting on his shovel. “There’s nothing here. Just rocks.”
Salvatore turned to me, his eyes filled with pure, murderous rage.
“You lied to me,” Salvatore hissed, raising his silver cane.
Before he could strike me, the roar of a high-performance engine shattered the quiet night.
Headlights blinded us.
A massive, armored black truck slammed directly into Salvatore’s SUV, pushing it violently into the canal with a sickening splash.
May you like
Luca Moretti stepped out of the truck, holding a tactical shotgun.
TITLE: THE HAPPY ENDING
