Chapter 6 - THE HEAVY WOODEN ROSARY BEADS
The drive out of the city took two hours.
By the time we turned onto the long, gravel driveway hidden deep in the woods, Lily had fallen asleep, her head resting on my lap, her fingers stained with vanilla frosting.
I looked out the window. The rain had stopped, and the moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating a massive, two-story house with a wraparound porch and a weeping willow tree in the front yard.
It was the exact house from David’s drawing.
Luca’s childhood summer home.
“Stay in the car,” Luca ordered quietly as Marco cut the engine.
Luca drew his weapon and stepped out into the damp night air. He moved with silent, lethal precision, checking the perimeter of the dark, silent house. Marco stood by the car door, his eyes scanning the tree line.
After five agonizing minutes, Luca emerged on the front porch and signaled us forward.
I gathered the sleeping Lily into my arms and carried her inside.
The house smelled of cedar, old books, and dust. Furniture was draped in white sheets. It hadn’t been lived in for years.
Luca led us into a small downstairs bedroom. I laid Lily gently on the mattress, covering her with a quilt I found in the closet. She didn't stir.
When I walked back into the main hallway, Luca was standing by the large stone fireplace in the living room. He was staring at the heavy wooden rosary in his hands.
“She was praying when they shot her,” Luca said, his voice barely a whisper in the empty house.
I stopped in the doorway.
“I was twenty-eight,” he continued, not looking at me. “I had just taken over the family business. I tried to make it legitimate. I wanted out of the blood and the violence. But Carlo Bellini didn't want peace. He wanted control. So he ordered a hit on my mother to show me what happened when I didn't follow the old ways.”
My heart ached for him. Beneath the tailored suits and the terrifying reputation, he was just a son mourning his mother.
“David was driving the car,” I said softly.
“Yes,” Luca said. He finally looked at me. “Your husband helped murder my mother, Claire.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, fresh tears falling. “I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't know. I thought he was just fixing cars.”
“I know you didn't,” Luca said softly. He crossed the room and stopped right in front of me. He reached out, his warm, rough thumb brushing the tear from my cheek. “If I thought you knew, you wouldn't be standing here.”
His touch sent a shiver down my spine. There was a sudden, intense gravity between us, a shared grief that bound us together in the dark.
“He tried to make it right,” I whispered. “David stole the ledger. He stole the rosary. He was trying to bring them down.”
“He was,” Luca agreed. “And it cost him his life.”
I gasped, taking a step back. “He’s dead?”
“Carlo Bellini doesn't let people run for four years,” Luca said gently. “Vanessa kept the watch to prove to her father that it was done. But David hid the ledger here before they caught him.”
He turned back to the massive stone fireplace.
“Lily said he told her to pretend she was hiding in the basement. He was telling her where he hid it.”
Luca walked over to the edge of the fireplace and pushed a hidden latch on the side of the stone mantle. A heavy click echoed in the quiet room. A section of the floorboards beside the hearth popped open, revealing a hidden crawlspace.
Luca reached inside.
He pulled out a heavy, leather-bound book. The Bellini master ledger. The one piece of evidence that could destroy Vanessa’s entire family and send her father to federal prison for the rest of his life.
“We have it,” Luca said, his eyes burning with vindication. “It’s over.”
But as he lifted the ledger, something else fell from the hidden compartment and clattered onto the hardwood floor.
I frowned, stepping closer.
It was a delicate silver bracelet.
The clasp was broken, and three small diamonds were missing.
Luca froze.
He stared at the bracelet, his face draining of all color. The triumph in his eyes vanished, replaced by utter shock and a rising, suffocating terror.
“Luca?” I asked, my voice trembling. “What is it?”
He didn't answer. He just picked up the bracelet, his hands shaking violently.
“That’s not Vanessa’s,” I said.
“No,” Luca whispered, staring at the silver chain. “It’s my mother’s.”
He looked up at me, his dark eyes wide with a realization that shattered his entire world.
“My mother was wearing this when she was buried, Claire. I put it on her wrist myself in the casket.”
The air in the room turned to ice.
If Luca had buried his mother wearing that bracelet ten years ago… how did David hide it in this floorboard four years ago?
Before Luca could speak, the distinct sound of a gun cocking echoed from the hallway shadows.
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“Put the ledger down, Luca,” a familiar voice said.
Marco stepped into the moonlight, his weapon pointed directly at Luca’s chest.
