Chapter 10 - THE GHOSTS IN THE LOCKET
I stared at the tiny photograph inside the gold locket, the air leaving my lungs in a sharp rush.
My mother’s face was bright, full of life, her hair blowing in the wind. She looked to be in her late twenties. And standing right beside her, holding her hand with a protective, fierce grip that I recognized instantly, was Luca. He couldn't have been more than eighteen, his face unscarred, his neck free of the tattoos that now marked his skin.
“Luca,” I breathed, my hands trembling so violently the locket rattled against its chain. “What is this? Why are you in a picture with my mother?”
Luca stared at the open locket. The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale and motionless. The tenderness that had just warmed his eyes was replaced by a haunted, hollow shock.
He slowly lowered his head, resting his face in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking slightly.
“Ma kept it,” he whispered, his voice cracking with an emotion I had never heard from him before. “All these years, she kept the locket.”
“You knew her,” I said, the puzzle pieces of my life suddenly shifting, rearranging themselves into a terrifying new picture. Chloe’s dying words echoed in my mind: She was going to take the proof to Teresa Moretti in exchange for our protection.
“I didn't just know her, Claire,” Luca said, looking up at me with eyes so full of sorrow it physically hurt to look at them. “I loved her. She was my nanny. But to me… she was the mother I actually needed.”
I collapsed back against the velvet sofa, my mind spinning.
My mother, a bookkeeper for the Rossi family, was also a nanny for the Morettis? It didn't make sense. The families were blood rivals.
“Tell me,” I demanded, my voice trembling but resolute. “No more lies, Luca. No more secrets. Tell me everything.”
Luca took a deep, shuddering breath and sat beside me on the sofa, keeping a respectful distance, as if afraid his proximity would taint me.
“Twenty years ago,” Luca began, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace, “my father was still alive. He was a brutal man, Claire. Ruthless. He didn't care about family; he only cared about power. He was at war with the Rossis, and he was losing.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, the memories clearly agonizing to pull to the surface.
“Your mother, Elena, was hired by Teresa to take care of me. My father was never around, and Teresa was always dealing with family politics. Elena was the only light in this massive, cold house. She taught me how to read. She taught me how to be kind. She was an angel in a house full of demons.”
I looked down at the picture. My mother’s smile was so warm. It was the same smile she used to give me when she tucked me into bed.
“But she worked for the Rossis,” I said softly.
Luca nodded grimly. “She was an accountant for Carlo Vane’s legitimate businesses. She didn't know they were mob fronts when she took the job. By the time she realized who she was working for, it was too late to quit. Vane threatened you and Chloe if she ever tried to leave.”
A tear slipped down my cheek. My mother had carried that terror entirely on her own, shielding me and my sister from the darkness she navigated every single day.
“She found the discrepancies in Vane’s books,” Luca continued. “She realized Vane was stealing from his own bosses. She knew if she took that ledger to the New York Dons, they would wipe Vane out. But she needed protection to do it.”
“So she came to Teresa,” I finished, remembering Chloe’s words.
“She came to me,” Luca corrected, his voice dropping to a painful whisper.
I looked up at him, shocked.
“I was eighteen,” Luca said, his fists clenching on his knees. “I thought I was a man. I thought I was invincible. Elena begged me to ask my father to grant her family sanctuary in exchange for the ledger. She trusted me, Claire.”
Luca closed his eyes, a tear escaping and tracking down his jawline.
“I took her request to my father,” Luca choked out. “And my father… he didn't care about Elena. He saw an opportunity to make a deal with Vane to end the war. My father sold your mother out. He called Vane and told him Elena had the books.”
My breath hitched.
The car accident. It wasn't an accident.
“Vane ran her off the road that same night,” Luca said, his voice completely hollow. “I tried to warn her. I tried to get to her in time, but I was too late. I pulled her body from the wreckage myself. The police ruled it an accident because my father paid them to.”
I covered my mouth with my hands, sobbing into my palms. My mother had died because she tried to buy freedom for me and Chloe. She had died because the Moretti family betrayed her.
“That’s why Teresa hired me,” I wept, looking at Luca through a blur of tears. “That’s why she was so kind to me. It wasn't because I was a good maid. It was guilt. She knew her husband got my mother killed.”
Luca didn't try to touch me. He didn't try to comfort me. He just sat there, carrying the weight of his father’s sins.
“When you applied for the job eighteen months ago,” Luca said softly, “Teresa recognized your last name. She recognized your face. She came to me in tears, begging me to let you stay so we could finally protect Elena’s daughter.”
I looked at him, feeling a sudden, terrifying disconnect. The man I had kissed minutes ago, the man I felt so safe with, was fundamentally tied to the destruction of my family.
“You knew,” I whispered, stepping away from the sofa. “You knew who I was this whole time. You watched me scrub your floors, knowing your family murdered my mother.”
“Claire, please,” Luca begged, finally reaching a hand out toward me. “I was a kid. I tried to save her. I killed my own father a year later because of what he did to her. I took over this family to make sure we never operated like that again!”
The revelation hit me like a physical blow. Luca had committed patricide to avenge my mother. He had carried that blood on his hands his entire adult life.
Before I could respond, Marcus sprinted into the parlor, his face completely pale. He didn't even knock.
“Boss,” Marcus breathed, holding up a small, cracked wooden box.
I recognized it instantly. It was my mother’s music box. The one she used to play for me when I was a toddler. It had been missing from my apartment for years.
“It was left on the front gates just now,” Marcus said grimly.
He opened the lid.
May you like
Inside was a note, written in messy, frantic handwriting.
I told Vane’s men everything before they took me away. The New York Dons know you have the ledger, Luca. They are coming for the girl to tie up loose ends. See you in hell. - Daniel.
