Chapter 4 - The Ransom Written In Crayon
“Where is my niece?!” I screamed, launching myself at Grant.
I didn't care that I was in a mansion. I didn't care about the etiquette. I grabbed him by the collar of his expensive shirt, shaking him with a sudden, violent strength I didn't know I possessed.
“Tell me where she is!”
Grant laughed, trying to push me away, but Luca stepped in. He gently but firmly pulled me back, tucking me behind his broad shoulder.
“Daniel,” Luca said, his voice lethal. “Take him to the soundproof room in the basement. See what he has to say.”
“Wait!” Grant panicked as Daniel’s massive hands clamped onto his shoulders. The smugness vanished instantly. “If you touch me, my guys have orders to put the kid on a plane to Mexico tonight! You’ll never see her again!”
I let out a ragged sob, covering my face. Lily was only six. She was terrified of the dark, and she cried if she didn't have her stuffed rabbit. The thought of her in the hands of Grant’s ruthless associates made my knees buckle.
Teresa caught my arm, holding me steady. “We will get her back, Rachel. I swear on my life.”
Luca’s jaw clenched. He looked at Grant with the cold detachment of a predator. “You want the construction contract that badly?”
“I want the contract, and I want her to drop the custody suit permanently,” Grant sneered, regaining a shred of confidence. “She signs the papers tonight, I get the Moretti backing, and the kid goes back to her foster family safely in the morning.”
Luca tilted his head. “You broke into her apartment. You stole her mother’s hidden artifacts. You kidnapped a child. You did all this just to secure a building deal?”
“Business is business,” Grant said.
“No,” Luca said softly. “You’re desperate.”
Luca reached into Grant’s coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open. Inside, tucked behind the credit cards, was a small brass rosary.
Teresa gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
“The Rossi family,” Luca murmured, staring at the brass beads.
The Rossis were the Morettis' oldest and most violent rivals. They controlled the city’s underground ports.
“You didn't orchestrate this for a construction deal, Grant,” Luca deduced, his eyes darkening. “You’re in debt to the Rossis. Deep. And they used you to get inside my house tonight.”
Grant’s face went paper-white. He tried to lunge for the wallet, but Daniel shoved him back down hard.
“They told you to bring Rachel here tonight,” Luca continued, piecing the puzzle together with terrifying speed. “They told you to bring the watch, and the photograph. They wanted me distracted. Why?”
Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the dining room burst open.
A security guard ran in, bleeding from a cut above his eye. “Boss! We have a breach at the west wing! Someone let them through the service gates!”
Luca drew a dark metallic handgun from his shoulder holster in a blur of motion.
“Lock down the estate,” Luca roared. “Get my mother to the safe room!”
The lights in the dining room abruptly flickered and died. Emergency red sirens began to spin in the corners of the ceiling.
In the chaotic red light, I looked down at the table. Grant had used the distraction to snatch a steak knife from a plate.
He didn't aim for Luca. He aimed for me.
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“You ruined my life!” Grant screamed, lunging across the table.
Before the blade could reach me, a gunshot deafened the room.
