Chapter 3 - THE BRACELET IN THE MONSTER'S POCKET
Gianna collapsed onto the marble floor, snatching the tiny blue coat from her husband’s bleeding hands.
“Leo?” she shrieked, the sound tearing through the grand dining room. It was the primal, agonizing scream of a mother whose soul had just been ripped out. “Where is my baby?! Daniel, where is my six-year-old son?!”
I dropped the serving tray. The silver clattered loudly against the floor, but nobody looked at me.
Luca closed the distance between himself and Daniel in three massive strides. He grabbed his brother-in-law by the collar of his ruined shirt and hoisted him to his knees.
“Who took my nephew, Daniel?” Luca roared, the refined gentleman completely vanishing, replaced by the ruthless boss of the Chicago syndicate.
Daniel coughed, blood staining his teeth. “I… I was supposed to pick him up from school. That was the deal. I take the money, I take Leo, and I stay out of Chicago until your wedding was over.”
“You sold your family?” Luca’s voice shook with violent rage. “You abandoned my sister to work in a laundry so you could take a payoff?”
“I did it to keep them alive!” Daniel cried, tears cutting through the grime on his face. “She said if I didn't take Leo away, she’d have Gianna killed in a hit-and-run! Just like your mother!”
Daniel pointed a shaking, bloody finger straight at Vanessa.
Every head in the room turned to the woman in the red silk gown.
Vanessa didn't cower. She didn't cry. She stood perfectly straight, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. The mask of the terrified orphan was gone.
“You always were a pathetic coward, Daniel,” Vanessa said coldly.
“Where is the boy, Vanessa?” Luca asked. The deadly calm had returned to his voice, which was somehow more terrifying than his shouting.
“He’s safe,” Vanessa replied smoothly. “For now.”
“Answer me.” Luca stepped toward her, his fists clenched.
Vanessa smiled. A dark, twisted smile that chilled me to the bone. She reached into the small, beaded clutch purse on the table and pulled out a delicate object.
It was a small silver bracelet.
Gianna gasped, pressing the blue coat against her chest. “That’s Leo’s medical alert bracelet. He has severe asthma! He needs that!”
“He doesn't need it if he’s breathing comfortably,” Vanessa said, dangling the silver chain from her manicured fingers. “Which he is. He’s currently watching cartoons in a very secure location with people who do exactly what I tell them.”
Answer one: Vanessa had orchestrated the kidnapping to maintain ultimate control.
Open two: Where was Leo hidden, and what was Vanessa’s true endgame?
“You kidnapped a child,” Luca said, his dark eyes narrowing. “You infiltrated my home, lied about your identity, destroyed my sister’s marriage, and now you’ve taken my nephew. Why? What do you want?”
Vanessa walked slowly around the long banquet table, her heels clicking against the marble.
“I want what was stolen from me, Luca,” she said bitterly. “Your father killed my dad. He threw me in a guest house like a stray dog while you and Gianna ate off silver plates. I watched you inherit the empire. The restaurants. The ports. I want it all.”
“Take it,” Gianna sobbed from the floor. “Take all the money! Just give me my son!”
“I fully intend to take it, Gianna,” Vanessa sneered. She looked at Luca. “My men have Leo. If you want him to see his seventh birthday, you will sign the deed to the downtown port authority over to Marco right now. And you will transfer the family accounts into my name.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. Marco was Luca’s uncle. His father’s brother. The man who managed the family’s legitimate restaurant businesses.
“Marco?” Luca repeated, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his face. “My uncle is involved in this?”
“Who do you think funded me?” Vanessa laughed. “Marco always hated your father for giving the empire to you. We’ve been planning this since the day your father died.”
It was a devastating reversal. Luca thought he was fighting a bitter ex-fiancée. He was actually fighting his own blood.
“Sign the papers, Luca,” Vanessa demanded, reaching into her purse again to pull out a folded legal document. “Or I make one phone call, and little Leo doesn't get his asthma inhaler tonight.”
Luca stared at the documents. He looked at his sister, who was weeping uncontrollably, clutching her husband’s bloody shirt.
“Emma,” Luca said softly, not taking his eyes off Vanessa.
I jumped. “Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Go to my study. Bring me my pen.”
Vanessa smiled victoriously. “Smart boy.”
I turned and ran down the hallway toward the massive oak doors of Luca’s study. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely turn the brass handle. I rushed to his mahogany desk, frantically searching for his heavy fountain pen.
But as I pulled open the top drawer, I didn't just find the pen.
I found a child's drawing.
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It was a crayon drawing of a house, signed by Leo. But across the back of the paper, written in frantic, hurried adult handwriting, were three words:
Don't trust Daniel.
