Chapter 5 - The Music Box
“Get down!” Alessandro roared.
He didn't reach for a weapon. He threw himself over Leo, pressing the boy flat against the plastic waiting room chairs, and simultaneously grabbed my jacket collar, hauling me to the floor.
The quiet thwip-thwip of the suppressed gun cut through the sterile hospital air. Two bullets shattered the glass of the vending machine directly behind where my head had been a second ago.
Screams erupted from the triage desk.
Alessandro moved with terrifying speed. He didn't stay pinned down. He rolled to his feet, kicking a heavy metal trash can across the floor. It slammed into the fake nurse’s shins, throwing off her aim. Her third shot went wide, burying itself into the ceiling tiles.
Before she could recover, Alessandro closed the distance. He grabbed her wrist, twisting it sharply upward with a sickening crack. The gun clattered to the floor. With his other hand, he drove his elbow into her throat. She collapsed, gasping for air, instantly neutralized.
Alessandro didn't pause to check if she was breathing. He turned, sprinting back to us.
“Up! We move, now!” he commanded.
I grabbed Leo’s hand, hoisting the terrified boy into my arms. He buried his face in my neck, trembling violently. I could feel his small heart hammering against my chest like a trapped bird.
We ran through the emergency exit doors, bursting into the freezing rain.
A black SUV tore around the corner of the ambulance bay, tires screeching on the wet pavement. For a second, I thought we were dead. But the back door flew open, and Victor yelled, “Get in!”
I practically threw Leo into the backseat, climbing in after him. Alessandro dove in just as Victor slammed the gas pedal, throwing us all against the leather seats.
“Dante found her faster than I thought,” Victor growled, weaving through traffic.
“He has people on the police payroll. They monitored the 911 dispatch when the ambulance picked Eleanor up,” Alessandro said, his breathing heavy. He looked at me, his eyes dark with guilt. “I’m sorry, Nora. Your mother’s room has a police guard now, paid by me. Dante can’t touch her there. But he will hunt us until he has the key.”
I sat back against the leather, clutching Leo to my side. The boy hadn't made a sound since he pointed out the nurse. He just stared at the wooden train in his hands, his knuckles white.
“You said this key opens a box at the train station,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “We need to go there. We need to get the ledger.”
Alessandro looked down at the brass key in his palm. He turned it over, wiping a smudge of dirt from the metal.
Suddenly, he frowned.
“This isn't the train station key,” he said, his voice dropping.
“What?” I leaned closer.
“The train station keys have serial numbers stamped on the bow,” Alessandro said, holding it up to the passing streetlights. “This has a rose etched into it. It’s an antique.”
My heart stopped.
I stared at the tiny rose etched into the brass. I knew that rose. I had stared at it every night of my childhood.
“It’s a music box,” I whispered.
Alessandro looked at me. “What?”
“When I was seven, my mother brought home a heavy mahogany music box,” I explained, the puzzle pieces slamming together in my mind. “She told me the key was lost, that it was just for decoration. She kept it on the top shelf of my bedroom closet. It’s still there.”
“She didn't hide the ledger in a public station,” Victor said from the front seat, a rare tone of admiration in his voice. “She hid it in the last place Dante would ever look. Her own daughter’s bedroom.”
“Turn the car around,” Alessandro ordered. “We’re going to the apartment.”
“Boss, the apartment is compromised,” Victor warned. “Dante’s men will be watching it.”
“I don’t care,” Alessandro said, his eyes locking onto mine. “We end this tonight.”
Twenty minutes later, Victor parked the SUV in the alley behind my building. The rain was coming down in sheets, hiding our movements. Alessandro told Victor to stay in the car with Leo, but Leo refused to let go of my hand.
“I want to stay with her,” Leo whispered, his large brown eyes looking up at me.
Alessandro hesitated, then nodded. “Keep him close. I’ll clear the rooms.”
We crept up the fire escape. Alessandro moved silently, his gun drawn, slipping through the shattered window Dante had broken hours earlier. He cleared the apartment in seconds, signaling us to follow.
The apartment was terrifyingly quiet.
I walked into my small, cramped childhood bedroom. I reached up to the top shelf of my closet, my fingers brushing against the dusty wood of the mahogany music box. I pulled it down and set it on the bed.
Alessandro handed me the brass key.
My hands shook as I slid it into the lock. It clicked perfectly.
I opened the lid.
There was no black leather book inside. There was no ledger.
There was only a single, faded photograph, and a folded piece of hospital stationery.
“It’s empty,” Alessandro whispered, the defeat in his voice crushing.
I picked up the photograph. It showed my mother in her nurse’s uniform in 1998. She was smiling, holding a newborn baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Standing next to her, looking terrified but deeply grateful, was a young Victor Russo.
“Victor?” I asked, completely confused.
I unfolded the hospital stationery. It was a note in my mother’s handwriting.
Alessandro, the note read. If you are reading this, Dante has found me. The ledger is safe. But you need to know the truth. The hit twenty-five years ago wasn't ordered by Dante’s father.
May you like
I stopped reading, my blood running cold.
It was ordered by Victor.
