Chapter 8 - THE WIRETAP AND THE WILL
The silence that followed was absolute.
Every single gunman below lowered their weapon slightly, looking confused and suddenly very paranoid. In their world, nothing was more terrifying than the word federal.
Carmine’s face turned bright red. “He’s lying! Shoot him! Shoot him right now!”
But nobody pulled the trigger.
Luca leaned over the wooden railing of the choir loft, his voice booming with authority.
“My maid, Emma, cleans Vanessa’s room,” Luca shouted down, his voice echoing perfectly through the cathedral. “She found letters between Vanessa and Carmine. Carmine didn’t just fake his death to steal money. He made a deal with the feds. He gives them me, and he gets immunity and the family assets. If you pull that trigger, every single one of you is going to prison for the rest of your lives!”
The gunmen exchanged nervous glances. They were loyal to money, not to a ghost.
“It’s a bluff!” Carmine screamed, spit flying from his mouth. He pointed his submachine gun up at Luca.
But before Carmine could fire, the heavy side door of the cathedral slammed open.
Dozens of laser sights pierced the darkness, painting Carmine and his men in red dots.
“DROP THE WEAPONS! FBI! NOBODY MOVE!”
Agents swarmed the building from every entrance.
Carmine froze, his cigar dropping from his lips. He looked up at Luca with pure, unadulterated hatred.
Luca looked down at him and smiled—a cold, terrifying smile.
He hadn’t been bluffing.
While I had been frantically searching the library, Luca had made a single phone call from the basement. He had called the lead FBI agent who had been trying to take down his family for a decade. He traded his uncle for his sister’s life.
The gunmen immediately dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Carmine was tackled to the stone floor, handcuffs ratcheting tightly around his wrists.
“You’re dead, Luca!” Carmine screamed as he was dragged away. “You broke the code! You’re dead!”
“I am the code,” Luca whispered to himself.
He turned around and dropped to his knees, pulling Sofia and little Leo back into his arms.
“It’s over,” Luca breathed, kissing his sister’s forehead. “It’s finally over.”
I slumped against the stone wall of the choir loft, my legs finally giving out. I buried my face in my hands, crying silent tears of absolute relief.
An hour later, we were sitting in the back of an armored FBI transport van. Luca had negotiated a deal. He handed over all the evidence of Carmine and Marcus’s embezzlement, and in return, the feds provided a safe escort back to the Moretti mansion.
Sofia sat beside me, wrapped in Luca’s heavy suit jacket. Little Leo was fast asleep on my lap, his small hand gripping my finger.
Sofia looked at me, her eyes filled with profound gratitude.
“You saved us, Emma,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to. You could have just kept quiet and kept your job.”
“You gave me a bracelet to keep safe,” I smiled softly. “I was just trying to return it.”
When we arrived back at the mansion, the sun was just beginning to rise over Chicago.
The house was secure. Luca’s most loyal guards had purged anyone tied to Marcus or Carmine.
As we walked through the front doors, Vanessa was standing in the foyer, handcuffed to a marble pillar, guarded by two men. Her red satin dress was ruined, her makeup smeared down her face.
When she saw Sofia walk through the door, alive and holding a child, Vanessa let out a broken, pathetic sob.
“Sofia,” Vanessa whimpered. “Please. I didn’t know what they were going to do to you. I swear.”
Sofia stopped walking. She looked at the woman who had tormented her, who had driven her out of her own home, who had forged her brother’s name on a death warrant.
Sofia didn’t yell. She didn’t strike her.
She simply looked at Vanessa with complete, shattering pity.
“You’re wearing my mother’s necklace,” Sofia said quietly.
Vanessa looked down at the diamond cross resting on her chest. She had stolen it years ago.
Luca stepped forward, ripped the necklace forcefully from Vanessa’s neck, and handed it to his sister.
“Get her out of my sight,” Luca ordered the guards. “Hand her over to the feds with the rest of the trash.”
Vanessa screamed and thrashed as they dragged her out the front door, her cries fading into the crisp morning air.
The mansion suddenly felt lighter. The oppressive darkness that had choked the halls for three years was gone.
Luca turned to us. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were alive for the first time in years.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Luca said softly. “Emma makes the best pancakes in Chicago. I think Leo is going to be hungry when he wakes up.”
We walked into the massive, sunlit kitchen.
I set Leo down gently on a velvet chair and tied on a fresh, clean apron.
As I reached for the flour, Luca walked over to me.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
“Emma,” he said softly, “there’s one more thing.”
My heart skipped a beat.
He opened the box.
Inside wasn’t a ring.
May you like
It was a heavy, ornate gold key.
The Master Key to the Moretti Estate.
