Chapter 8 - THE VAULT
The cold wind coming off the docks bit through my uniform, but the chill in Luca’s voice was far more terrifying.
She took the master key.
"How much is in the vault?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.
"Enough to fund a small army," Luca said grimly, running a hand through his dark hair. "Millions in untraceable bearer bonds, uncut diamonds, and cash my father hoarded before he died. If Vanessa gets her hands on that box, she won't just disappear. She’ll use the money to hire mercenaries and rebuild her father’s empire from the shadows."
Agent Ramirez stepped forward, having overheard the conversation.
"Where is the vault, Moretti?" Ramirez demanded, her federal authority returning full force. "Give me the location, and I’ll send a SWAT team right now."
Luca looked at her, his jaw clenching. He knew that if he told the FBI where the secret family vault was, they would seize every dime of his father's legacy, crippling the legitimate businesses he was trying to build to get out of the mob life.
"I don't know where it is, Agent," Luca lied smoothly, his face an unreadable mask. "My father was paranoid. He changed the location right before he died. The key was the only clue."
Ramirez glared at him, clearly not believing a word. "Don't play games with me, Moretti. You handed over the ledger. You bought your immunity for tonight, but it doesn't cover perjury."
"I'm telling the truth," Luca insisted coldly. He turned his back on her, kneeling down to look at Leo and his little sister.
"Agent Ramirez, these children are material witnesses to Carlo's attempted murder," Luca said, shifting the focus flawlessly. "They need federal protection immediately. They are the priority. Not a missing key."
Ramirez sighed heavily, recognizing she was outmaneuvered. She gestured to two of her agents. "Get the kids in the SUV. Keep them warm and secure."
I hugged Leo tightly before he climbed into the federal vehicle, promising him I would visit him as soon as it was safe.
Once the children were secured, Luca grabbed my arm gently but firmly, leading me away from the FBI command post toward a secondary, unmarked town car his men had left parked near the warehouse.
"Get in," Luca murmured, opening the passenger door for me.
"You lied to her," I said softly once we were inside the quiet, luxurious interior. "You know exactly where the vault is."
"Of course I do," Luca said, starting the engine. The powerful car roared to life, tearing away from the docks and leaving the flashing federal lights behind. "The vault is buried beneath the foundation of the oldest Catholic church in the city. Holy Name Cathedral."
My eyes widened in shock. "A church? Your father hid millions of dollars in mafia money under a church?"
"My father paid for the cathedral's structural renovations twenty years ago," Luca explained, navigating the dark, empty streets with terrifying precision. "He built a secret sub-basement beneath the crypts. The priests don't even know it's there. It's the only place the feds would never think to look."
"So we’re going to stop her?" I asked, my heart pounding at the thought of facing Vanessa Bellini again.
"I'm going to stop her," Luca corrected, glancing at me. "I’m dropping you off at my secure penthouse downtown. You’ve done enough tonight, Natalie. You’re safe now."
"I'm not hiding in a penthouse while you face that monster alone," I argued, my stubbornness flaring. "Vanessa tried to destroy Evelyn. She manipulated you. She deserves to be stopped."
"She is armed and desperate, Natalie," Luca said, his voice hard. "I won't risk your life again."
"You didn't risk my life, Luca. I chose to get involved!" I fired back, turning in my seat to look at him fully. "I walked into that dining room and challenged her because it was the right thing to do. I’m not stopping now."
Luca stared at the road ahead. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, but the tight line of his jaw slowly softened. He knew he couldn't control me. And for the first time in his life, a woman defying his orders didn't make him angry. It made him respect her.
"Fine," Luca relented quietly. "But you stay behind me. When the shooting starts, you don't play hero."
I nodded, swallowing the lump of fear in my throat.
Ten minutes later, the town car pulled into a dark, deserted alleyway behind Holy Name Cathedral. The massive gothic structure loomed over us, silent and imposing against the night sky.
Luca popped the trunk of the car and pulled out a heavy tactical flashlight and a secondary, suppressed handgun. He offered the gun to me.
I stared at the weapon, my hands shaking. "I don't know how to shoot."
"Point and pull the trigger," Luca instructed grimly, pressing the cold steel into my palm. "Only use it if she gets past me."
We crept toward the heavy iron side doors of the cathedral. Luca examined the lock. It had been professionally picked. Vanessa was already inside.
We slipped through the doors, stepping into the cavernous, pitch-black nave of the church. The air smelled of old incense and candle wax. Our footsteps echoed softly on the marble floors as we moved silently toward the altar.
Luca found the hidden switch behind a massive marble statue of Saint Peter.
With a low, grinding rumble, a section of the stone floor slid back, revealing a steep, narrow spiral staircase leading deep underground.
We descended into the darkness, Luca’s flashlight cutting a narrow beam through the dusty air.
We reached the bottom. The sub-basement was a small, concrete room, dominated by a massive, antique steel bank vault door.
The heavy steel door was wide open.
"She's here," Luca whispered, clicking the safety off his primary weapon.
We crept toward the open vault.
Inside, illuminated by the harsh glow of a tactical lantern, Vanessa Bellini was frantically stuffing stacks of banded cash and velvet jewelry pouches into a large black duffel bag.
She had abandoned her ruined red silk evening gown for a dark tactical suit. She looked frantic, manic, completely consumed by the greed that was the true legacy of the Bellini family.
"That’s enough, Vanessa," Luca said, stepping fully into the doorway of the vault, his gun aimed directly at her back.
Vanessa froze. She slowly turned around, dropping a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
When she saw Luca, a twisted, desperate smile broke across her face.
"Luca," Vanessa breathed, acting as if she was relieved to see him. "Thank God you're alive. The FBI raided the house. My father tried to force me to run, but I came here to secure our future. I grabbed the money for us, darling. We can leave the city tonight. We can go to Europe. Just the two of us."
"You’re a terrible liar, Vanessa," Luca said coldly. "And an even worse fiancée. You gave the FBI the location of my study to save your own skin."
Vanessa’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, venomous glare.
"You left me no choice," she hissed. "You humiliated me for a senile old cook and a pathetic housemaid. You threw away an empire for them."
"I threw away a parasite," Luca corrected.
Vanessa’s hand slowly drifted toward the small, silver revolver tucked into the waistband of her tactical suit.
"Don't do it," Luca warned, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You won't clear leather before I put a bullet in your chest."
Vanessa hesitated. She knew he was faster. She raised her hands slowly in surrender, stepping away from the duffel bag.
"Fine," Vanessa spat. "Take the money. Keep your pathetic life. But know this, Luca. The Commission in New York won't let you just walk away. When they find out Arthur is in prison and the territory is vulnerable, they will send an army to burn Chicago to the ground. You haven't won anything."
"I'll handle the Commission," Luca said smoothly. He gestured to the door with his gun. "Move. You're going to tell the FBI everything your father did, starting with the murder of my brother."
Vanessa glared at him, pure hatred burning in her eyes. She slowly walked toward the vault door, her hands raised.
As she passed me, she looked down at the gun trembling in my hands. She sneered in absolute disgust.
But as Vanessa stepped out of the vault, a deafening, metallic CLANG echoed from the top of the spiral staircase.
Luca whipped his head toward the sound.
"Well, well, well," a smooth, cultured voice echoed down the stone staircase.
Footsteps descended the stairs slowly, deliberately.
Standing at the bottom of the steps, blocking our only exit, was a tall, elegantly dressed man holding a high-powered assault rifle.
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It wasn't one of Arthur Bellini's men. It wasn't the FBI.
"It seems Miss Bellini is correct, Mr. Moretti," the elegant man smiled, racking the bolt of the assault rifle. "The Commission in New York does not like loose ends. And they sent me to tie them up."
