Chapter 4 - THE GHOSTS IN THE WALLS
The kitchen went dead silent. The only sound was Marco’s ragged, wet breathing on the tile floor.
Luca stared at me. The air around him seemed to freeze. The terrifying, calculated mafia boss vanished entirely, replaced by a father whose world had just been plunged into pure, apocalyptic terror.
"Henry's room?" Luca repeated, his voice barely a whisper, yet it echoed louder than the gunshot.
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "I saw the blueprint on Marco's desk. There were red marks on your study... and on the nursery wing."
Luca slowly turned his head to look down at Marco.
He didn't yell. He didn't curse. He knelt beside his bleeding friend, pressing the barrel of his pistol directly against Marco’s forehead.
"Tell me she’s lying, Marco," Luca said, his voice devoid of all humanity. "Tell me you didn't help them target my eight-year-old son."
Marco squeezed his eyes shut, a tear leaking out to mix with the sweat on his face.
"I didn't know about the kid, Boss," Marco choked out, desperate. "I swear on my life. Vanessa handled the explosives. She said Phase Two was just you. I thought the kid was going to boarding school!"
"You thought he was going to boarding school," Luca repeated flatly. "So you were just going to orphan him."
Marco sobbed, a pathetic, broken sound. "Falcone has my wife, Luca! He has my little girls! He sent me a picture of them tied up in a basement. What was I supposed to do?!"
Luca stood up slowly, his face a mask of granite.
"You were supposed to come to me," Luca said softly. "I would have burned this city to the ground to get your family back. Instead, you invited the fire into my home."
Luca didn't shoot him. He lowered his gun.
"Emily, call Silvio," Luca commanded, not taking his eyes off Marco. "Tell him to bring a medical kit and three loyal men to the kitchen. No one else."
I scrambled to the wall phone, my hands shaking violently as I dialed the private number for Silvio, Luca's second-in-command, a brutal but fiercely loyal enforcer.
Within three minutes, Silvio burst through the back door, followed by three heavily armed men. Silvio took one look at Marco bleeding on the floor, then at Luca, and understood instantly.
"Secure him," Luca ordered Silvio, pointing at Marco. "Keep him alive. But if he tries to run, break his legs."
"You got it, Boss," Silvio grunted, signaling his men to haul Marco up.
Luca turned to me. "Emily. You’re coming with me."
"Where are we going?" I asked, terrified.
"To Henry," Luca said.
We sprinted back up the grand staircase. My heart hammered against my ribs, dread pooling in my stomach. What if Vanessa had already planted the explosives? What if she hadn't waited for Sunday?
We burst into Henry's room.
He was still fast asleep, curled around his stuffed bear, the blue mitten resting on his pillow. He looked so small, so completely innocent of the monsters circling his life.
Luca walked over and gently scooped the sleeping boy into his arms. Henry stirred, murmuring sleepily, and rested his head on Luca’s broad shoulder.
"Shh, it's okay, buddy," Luca whispered, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. "Dad’s got you."
Luca looked at me. "Pack his suitcase. The red one. Just clothes and the bear."
I moved frantically, shoving shirts and pants into the small red suitcase.
"Where are we going?" I asked, zipping it shut.
"We are going to the only place Don Falcone doesn't know exists," Luca said grimly.
Ten minutes later, we were in the sub-basement of the mansion.
I had worked here for three years, but I had never seen the heavy steel door hidden behind a rack of vintage wine barrels. Luca punched a long code into a dusty keypad, and the steel door hissed open, revealing a dark, narrow stone tunnel.
"Prohibition era," Luca explained briefly, walking into the tunnel with Henry asleep in his arms. "My grandfather built it to move liquor to the docks. It leads to a safehouse three miles away."
We walked in silence for nearly forty minutes. The air was damp and smelled of earth and old brick. My feet ached, and my hands were still trembling, but I didn't complain. I carried the red suitcase, staying close to Luca’s broad back.
Finally, the tunnel ended at another steel door. Luca opened it, and we stepped out into the basement of an unassuming, two-story brick house in a quiet Chicago suburb.
The house was immaculate, fully furnished, but completely devoid of personal touches. It was a ghost house.
Luca carried Henry upstairs and laid him gently in a large bed, pulling the covers up. He stood watching his son for a long moment, the terrifying mafia boss completely eclipsed by the vulnerable father.
He walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked, and turned to me in the hallway.
"You saved his life tonight, Emily," Luca said quietly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "You saved both of us. If you hadn't found that journal... if you hadn't caught Marco..."
"I couldn't let them hurt him," I whispered, looking down at my hands. "He's just a little boy."
Luca stepped closer. He reached out, his hand gently lifting my chin so I was forced to look at him.
"Why did you stay, Emily?" Luca asked softly. "When Vanessa humiliated you at dinner. When Marco pulled a gun on you. You could have run. Why did you risk your life for a child that isn't yours?"
I swallowed hard, tears prickling my eyes.
"Because I know what it’s like to lose everything," I said, my voice breaking. "And because I know he doesn't have anyone else who will fight for him. Not even you, sometimes."
The words slipped out before I could stop them. I expected him to be angry. I expected him to fire me on the spot.
Instead, Luca’s expression softened into one of profound, agonizing regret.
"You're right," Luca admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I let Vanessa push him away because I was too blind to see her manipulation. I wanted a mother for him so badly that I ignored the monster standing in front of me."
He dropped his hand, running it through his dark hair.
"But that ends tonight," Luca swore, his eyes hardening into obsidian. "I am going to tear the Falcone family apart. I am going to find Marco’s wife and kids. And I am going to make Vanessa beg for a mercy I will not give her."
He looked back at me.
"I need you to stay here with Henry," Luca said. "Silvio will post guards outside. You will be completely safe. Do not open the door for anyone but me."
"Where are you going?" I asked, panic rising in my chest.
"I have to go back to the estate," Luca said grimly. "I have to find out exactly how deep this betrayal goes before Sunday."
"Luca, wait," I said, grabbing his arm as he turned to leave.
He stopped, looking down at my hand on his sleeve.
"Vanessa wrote something else in the journal," I said, my voice trembling as I remembered the final lines on the page. "It wasn't just about Sunday."
Luca frowned. "What else did it say?"
I looked up into his eyes, terrified of the answer.
"She wrote: 'The boy is dealt with. But the maid knows too much. The package I left in her room will handle it.'"
Luca froze.
"My room?" I whispered, my blood running cold.
Luca didn't hesitate. He pulled out his phone and dialed Silvio.
"Silvio," Luca barked. "Go to the servant’s quarters. Emily's room. Tell me exactly what is in there."
We stood in silence for three agonizing minutes. I could hear Silvio’s heavy breathing over the phone as he searched my small room at the estate.
"Boss," Silvio’s voice finally crackled over the line, sounding tight and strained.
"What is it?" Luca demanded.
"It's a package, Boss," Silvio said. "Addressed to the police. But it's not a bomb."
"What is it, Silvio?"
"It's a murder weapon," Silvio said grimly. "A knife covered in dried blood. And a file. A file detailing the murder of your father eight years ago."
My heart stopped.
"Why would she put that in my room?" I gasped.
May you like
Luca stared at me, realization dawning in his eyes, cold and terrifying.
"Because Vanessa didn't just want me dead," Luca whispered. "She was setting you up to take the fall for assassinating the head of the Moretti family."
