Chapter 5 - THE BURNED PHOTOGRAPH
Grace froze, her eyes locked on the black muzzle of the gun in Chloe’s hand.
The air in the hallway turned to ice.
“Your father,” Matteo repeated. His voice didn’t rise. He didn’t reach for a weapon. He simply stood beside Grace, radiating absolute calm.
“Don’t play stupid,” Chloe sneered, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “Vincent Rossi doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Grace’s mind scrambled to keep up.
Chloe wasn’t just Daniel’s new, younger wife. She was Vincent Rossi’s daughter. Daniel hadn’t stumbled into a backdoor deal with the mob—he had married into it. He was a pawn, completely manipulated by the woman holding the gun.
“Daniel really is a fool,” Matteo observed mildly, as if discussing the weather. “He thinks he’s brokering a corporate takeover. He doesn’t realize he’s entirely disposable.”
“Daniel is an idiot,” Chloe agreed with a cold laugh. “But he was useful. He gave us access to Alden Freight’s routes. He got us close to the terminal manager. But now the manager is getting cold feet. So give me the card, Matteo.”
“No.”
The single word hung in the air.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “I will shoot her right here.”
“If you pull that trigger, Chloe, you will be dead before the casing hits the floor,” Matteo promised.
The absolute certainty in his voice made Chloe hesitate. She glanced quickly behind Matteo, suddenly paranoid that his guards were lurking in the shadows.
It was all the distraction Matteo needed.
In a movement so fast Grace barely tracked it, Matteo grabbed the heavy, silver-plated coat rack standing next to him and hurled it directly at Chloe.
Chloe shrieked, firing wildly as the heavy brass base slammed into her shoulder.
The suppressed gunshot sounded like a violent cough. The bullet shattered the plaster wall an inch from Grace’s head.
Matteo didn’t wait. He grabbed Grace by the waist and shoved her hard through the service door to their left, pulling her into the narrow, dimly lit kitchen corridor.
He slammed the heavy steel door shut behind them and engaged the deadbolt just as Chloe threw herself against it from the other side.
“Move,” Matteo ordered.
He grabbed Grace’s hand, pulling her in her heels down the narrow, greasy hallway that smelled of industrial dish soap and prime rib.
“She’s Rossi’s daughter,” Grace gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Daniel married a Rossi.”
“Which means this entire party is a trap,” Matteo said grimly, his eyes scanning the corridor. “Rossi didn’t just want Terminal 4 tonight. He wanted me in a room where I couldn’t bring my security detail.”
Grace stumbled slightly, her mind flashing to Lily. “What about the little girl? If Chloe is a Rossi…”
“Lily is leverage,” Matteo said, pulling her around a corner toward the loading dock exit. “Rossi uses his own family just as ruthlessly as he uses enemies.”
They reached the heavy steel doors leading to the alley behind the Lakeshore Club.
Matteo pushed the door open, stepping out into the freezing Chicago night.
The alley was empty. Matteo’s black town car was idling at the far end of the brick wall, his driver standing outside smoking a cigarette.
But as they stepped into the dim glow of the streetlamp, Grace noticed something on the ground.
Lying in a puddle of dirty rainwater near the dumpster was a small, scorched piece of paper.
Grace stopped. She let go of Matteo’s hand and crouched down.
“Grace, we don’t have time,” Matteo warned, his eyes scanning the rooftops.
“Look at this,” she whispered.
She picked up the wet paper. The edges were blackened, as if someone had tried to burn it with a lighter but dropped it when it started raining.
It was a photograph.
Half of the image was burned away, but the remaining half showed two men shaking hands outside a warehouse.
One man was Vincent Rossi.
The other man wasn’t Daniel. It wasn’t her father.
It was the CEO of Alden Freight.
Grace stared at the picture, the reality of the conspiracy locking into place.
“It’s not just Daniel,” Grace breathed, looking up at Matteo. “The CEO is in on it. He’s the one selling the company to the Rossis. My dad isn’t being pushed out because of a buyout. He’s being pushed out because the CEO needs a scapegoat when the illegal shipments are discovered.”
Matteo took the photograph from her fingers. His jaw tightened.
“They were going to frame Arthur for the smuggling ring,” Matteo said quietly, the rage simmering just beneath his calm facade. “And use Daniel as the witness to testify against him.”
A slow clap echoed through the dark alley.
Grace spun around.
Standing at the mouth of the alley, blocking their car, were four men in heavy dark coats.
Stepping out from behind them was Daniel.
He was holding a tire iron, his face twisted in a mixture of terror and pathetic arrogance.
“You’re too smart for your own good, Grace,” Daniel sneered, though his voice wavered slightly when he looked at Matteo.
“You’re going to let them frame my father?” Grace yelled, the anger finally overwhelming her fear. “He treated you like a son!”
“I didn’t have a choice!” Daniel shouted back, stepping forward. “Chloe’s father made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. It was either play along, or they bury me in Terminal 4.”
Daniel pointed the tire iron at Matteo.
“Give me the card, DeLuca. My men will take it to the terminal. You and Grace are coming back inside. Rossi wants to have a drink with you.”
Matteo didn’t raise his hands. He didn’t step back.
He looked at Daniel, and then he reached into his jacket pocket.
He didn’t pull out a gun.
He pulled out the vintage silver bracelet he had confiscated earlier.
He held it up, the turquoise stones catching the dim street light.
“Daniel,” Matteo said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, absolute calm. “Do you know why I took this bracelet from your wife?”
Daniel swallowed, taking a hesitant step back. “Because… because it’s Grace’s.”
“No,” Matteo whispered.
He tossed the silver bracelet onto the wet pavement at Daniel’s feet.
“I took it so you wouldn’t have any of Grace’s protection when I kill you.”
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Matteo raised his hand, snapping his fingers once.
From the shadows of the fire escape above them, the unmistakable sound of three assault rifles chambering rounds echoed through the alley.
