Chapter 5 - [A ONE-WAY TICKET TO NOWHERE]
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.
I looked at Luca. The man who had employed me, protected me, and defended my son tonight.
His face was an unreadable mask of horror. His father, the legendary Don Moretti, had ordered my husband’s murder. I had spent six years cleaning the mansion built on David’s blood.
I dropped the gold watch. It hit the floor with a sickening clatter.
I turned away from Luca, unable to bear the sight of him, and dropped to my knees beside Tyler. I pulled my son into my chest, hiding his face in my shoulder as we both wept on the cold floor of the restaurant.
We were surrounded by monsters. We always had been.
“Marco,” Luca’s voice cracked. The terrifying composure was completely gone. He sounded like a man who had just been stabbed in the chest.
“Yes, boss.” Marco’s hand was resting on the grip of a pistol concealed beneath his jacket.
“Take Vanessa’s phone,” Luca said.
Vanessa shrieked as Marco grabbed her wrist, twisting it just enough to force her fingers open. The phone clattered to the floor. Marco kicked it across the room and pinned Vanessa against the heavy oak doors.
“You can’t do this!” Vanessa screamed. “Silvio knows I’m here! If I don’t check in, the girl is dead!”
Luca walked slowly toward her. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked dead inside.
He reached into her spilled purse on the floor. He bypassed the makeup and the keys, pulling out a white envelope.
Luca opened it.
He pulled out a boarding pass.
“A private charter to Costa Rica,” Luca read aloud. “Departing tonight at midnight.”
Vanessa stopped struggling.
“You weren't planning on staying for the engagement, were you?” Luca asked quietly. “You and Silvio used this charity dinner as a distraction. While my men were busy guarding this restaurant, Silvio was cleaning out the foundation’s offshore accounts. You were leaving me.”
Vanessa didn't answer. Her silence was a confession.
Luca turned to Marco. “Bring her car around to the alley. Search it. Top to bottom.”
Marco dragged Vanessa by her arm, hauling her toward the back exit. Luca stood alone in the dining room, looking down at the shattered gold watch on the floor.
He slowly bent down and picked it up.
He walked over to where Tyler and I were huddled together. He didn't stand over us. He lowered himself to his knees, dropping his expensive suit pants onto the dirty floor, putting himself at our level.
He held out the watch to me.
I flinched, pulling Tyler closer.
“Patricia,” Luca whispered, tears shining in his dark eyes. “I swear to you on my mother’s soul. I didn't know. If I had known what my father did to David, I would have burned my own empire to the ground.”
I looked into his eyes. There was no deception there. Only profound, agonizing shame.
“Please,” Luca begged, his voice breaking. “Let me make this right. Let me bring your granddaughter home.”
I slowly reached out and took the watch from his hand. It was cold, but it felt like a piece of David had finally come back to me.
Before I could speak, the back doors burst open.
Marco ran into the room, his face pale. He was carrying a heavy, moth-eaten wool winter coat.
I instantly recognized the plaid pattern. It was the coat David was wearing the night he never came home.
“Boss,” Marco panted, dropping the coat on a dining table. “It was in the trunk of Vanessa’s car. It’s heavy.”
Luca stood up, wiping his eyes, his mafia demeanor returning instantly. He pulled a pocket knife from his suit and sliced the lining of the coat open.
Inside, wrapped in plastic, was a thick, black leather ledger.
Luca opened it. His eyes scanned the pages, tracking decades of blackmail, extortion, and offshore accounts.
“It’s Silvio’s insurance policy,” Luca realized. “He kept the coat and hid his personal ledgers inside it. Vanessa was smuggling it out of the country.”
Suddenly, the heavy glass front doors of the restaurant rattled violently.
We all turned.
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Standing on the sidewalk, illuminated by the streetlights, was Silvio Bellini. He was surrounded by six heavily armed men.
And in his hand, he was holding a gasoline canister.
