Chapter 6 - THE LOCKET
We sped back to the Moretti estate, the rain pounding against the windshield of the SUV like a drumbeat.
My mind was spinning, unable to process the sheer weight of what was happening. My sweet, quiet mother—who baked cookies for the neighborhood kids and watched Jeopardy every night—was holding the key to a criminal empire.
When we burst through the front doors of the mansion, Silvio was waiting in the foyer.
“Boss,” Silvio said, noticing our frantic pace. “Carol is resting in the guest suite. Dr. Aris gave her a mild sedative to help her sleep.”
“Wake her up,” Nicholas ordered.
We hurried down the grand hallway and pushed open the doors to the luxurious guest suite.
My mother was sitting up in the massive four-poster bed, looking small and fragile against the heavy silk pillows. She looked up as we entered, confusion clouding her eyes.
“Sarah?” she asked weakly. “Is everything alright?”
I rushed to her side, taking her good hand in mine.
“Mom, we need to ask you something important,” I said gently, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “About Giovanni.”
My mother flinched slightly at the name, looking away.
Nicholas stepped forward, standing at the foot of the bed.
“Carol,” Nicholas said softly, his voice devoid of any intimidation. “Before my father died, did he send you anything? A package? A letter? A piece of jewelry?”
My mother frowned, her brow furrowing in concentration.
“No,” she said slowly. “He never sent me anything. We hadn't spoken in thirty years. Not until the week before my stroke, when he sent that warning letter about Andrew.”
Nicholas exchanged a sharp glance with me.
“Are you absolutely sure, Mom?” I pressed. “Nothing at all?”
My mother shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
“I swear to you, Sarah. The only thing Giovanni ever gave me was Andrew. And I gave him away.”
She was telling the truth. I could see it in her eyes.
But if she didn't have the key, why did the Romanos think she did?
Nicholas paced the room, running a hand through his dark hair.
“The Romanos don't act on rumors, Sarah,” Nicholas said, his mind working a mile a minute. “If they believed Carol had the key, they had proof. Someone told them.”
He stopped pacing, his eyes snapping to my mother’s chest.
She was wearing a simple, worn silver locket. She never took it off. She had worn it every day since I was a little girl.
Nicholas walked slowly toward the side of the bed.
“Carol,” he said, pointing to the locket. “Where did you get that?”
My mother touched the silver heart, a sad smile touching her lips.
“My husband gave this to me,” she said. “Richard. On our first wedding anniversary. He told me to never take it off.”
Nicholas stared at the locket.
“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.
My mother hesitated, but then she unclasped the delicate chain and handed it to him.
Nicholas held the locket up to the light. It was old, tarnished silver, completely unassuming.
But as he ran his thumb over the small hinge on the side, his expression changed.
“This isn't a standard hinge,” Nicholas murmured.
He pulled a small pocket knife from his suit jacket and carefully wedged the blade into the tiny seam of the locket.
With a sharp snap, the back panel of the silver heart popped off.
My mother gasped.
I leaned forward, my heart hammering in my chest.
Hidden perfectly inside the false back of the locket was a tiny, intricately cut titanium key.
“Richard didn't buy this for you,” Nicholas said quietly, pulling the key out and holding it up for us to see. “My father gave this to Richard to give to you. He used your husband as the middleman to keep you completely unaware.”
My mother stared at the key, her face turning pale.
“Giovanni put a target on my back for thirty years,” she whispered, the betrayal evident in her voice. “He used me.”
“He protected you,” Nicholas corrected gently. “If he had told you what this was, the Romanos would have tortured the truth out of you decades ago. By keeping you ignorant, he kept you alive.”
I looked at the tiny titanium key in Nicholas’s massive hand.
“So we have it,” I breathed. “The Romanos didn't get it. We’re safe.”
“No,” Nicholas said, his dark eyes shifting to the window, staring out into the rainy night. “We’re not safe.”
He turned back to me, the lethal aura returning to his presence.
“The Romanos know Andrew failed. They know he’s dead. And they know I have you.”
May you like
Nicholas slipped the key into his pocket.
“They aren't going to try to sneak into your house anymore, Sarah. They are going to come here. And they are going to bring a war to my front door.”
