Chapter 10 - The Union Station Lockbox
The underground parking garage beneath the penthouse building was dark and freezing.
Luca and I moved quickly through the shadows, avoiding the elevators where the remaining Bellini men were likely still searching.
We found one of Luca’s backup vehicles—a sleek, armored black SUV parked in a VIP corner.
Luca climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the ignition button. The engine roared to life.
“The helicopter is taking Anna, Mom, Noah, and Marco to a safe house in Wisconsin,” Luca said, throwing the SUV into drive. “They’ll be protected there.”
I buckled my seatbelt, my hands shaking.
“And us?” I asked.
“We go to Union Station,” Luca said, his eyes fixed on the concrete ramp ahead. “We get the Genesis Ledger. Then we end the Bellini family tonight.”
We tore out of the parking garage, the heavy tires squealing onto the wet Chicago streets.
The city was a blur of neon lights and rain.
Luca drove with terrifying precision, weaving through traffic like a professional racer.
“Marco said they have men watching the station,” I reminded him, clutching the door handle as we took a sharp turn.
“I know,” Luca said.
He reached into the center console and pulled out two objects.
One was a heavy, loaded Glock 19. He handed it to me.
“Safety is off. Point and pull,” Luca instructed.
I took the gun. It was heavy and cold. Fourteen months ago, I was sweeping floors and serving bread. Now, I was holding a weapon, riding beside the head of the Moretti family.
The second object Luca pulled out was the heavy brass safety deposit key Marco had given him.
He tossed it into my lap.
“Locker 402, South Terminal,” Luca said. “I’m going to draw their fire. You go straight for the lockers. Get the ledger and get out. Do not wait for me.”
“I’m not leaving you behind, Luca,” I said fiercely.
He looked at me, a proud smile touching the corners of his mouth.
“Spoken like a true Moretti.”
We pulled up to the grand entrance of Union Station. The massive limestone columns loomed over us in the rain.
Despite the late hour, the station was somewhat busy with commuters.
“Keep your head down,” Luca warned as we stepped out of the SUV.
We walked through the heavy brass doors into the cavernous Great Hall.
The vaulted ceiling echoed with the sounds of footsteps and train announcements.
I scanned the crowd.
It didn't take long to spot them.
Three men in long, dark trench coats standing near the ticket counters, their eyes scanning the entrances.
Bellini men.
“They see us,” Luca murmured.
The three men reached into their coats and began moving swiftly toward us.
“Go to the lockers, Bella,” Luca ordered. “Now.”
“Luca—”
“Go!” he shouted.
Luca didn't run away. He walked directly toward the three hitmen, his hand slipping inside his jacket.
I turned and sprinted toward the South Terminal.
My heart pounded in my ears. I dodged around bewildered travelers, clutching the brass key in my sweating palm.
I saw the sign: Baggage Storage & Lockers.
I ducked down the narrow, dimly lit corridor.
Rows of grey metal lockers lined the walls.
398… 400… 402.
I skidded to a halt in front of locker 402.
My hands were shaking violently as I jammed the brass key into the lock.
It turned with a heavy click.
I pulled the metal door open.
Inside sat a thick, leather-bound book.
The Genesis Ledger.
I reached in and grabbed it. It was incredibly heavy, filled with decades of handwritten financial records.
But as I pulled it out, a shadow fell over me.
I spun around.
Standing at the end of the locker aisle was a tall, elegant man wearing a custom tailored black suit.
He had silver hair and a walking stick with a silver wolf’s head handle.
Don Carlo Bellini.
The head of the rival family himself. Vanessa’s uncle.
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He wasn't alone. Two massive bodyguards stood behind him, aiming suppressed pistols directly at my chest.
“Good evening, Isabella,” Don Bellini said smoothly, his voice echoing in the empty corridor. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
