Chapter 6 - THE ROSARY
“Mom?”
The word barely made it past my lips.
Standing ten feet away in the pouring rain, holding a pump-action shotgun, was my mother. The woman who was supposedly paralyzed on her left side from a stroke. The woman I had been emptying bedpans for and feeding soup for the last six months.
She held the weapon perfectly steady. There was no tremor in her hands. No weakness in her posture.
“I’m sorry, Hannah,” she said, her voice completely clear, devoid of the slurred speech she had faked for nearly a year. “But Dante and I are leaving tonight. And we’re taking the boy.”
Luca stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body, keeping his pistol aimed at my mother.
“You faked the stroke,” Luca said, his voice laced with disgust. “To keep Hannah close. To keep her from asking questions about her past.”
“It was the only way to keep her safe!” my mother shouted over the rain. “Dante promised me! He said if we gave the baby to Catherine, Hannah would never have to know the truth. We would have the two million dollars, and Hannah could live a normal life!”
“You sold my child!” I screamed, stepping out from behind Luca, tears mixing with the freezing rain on my face. “You stole my baby while I was in a coma and sold him to the mafia!”
My mother flinched, a flash of genuine guilt crossing her eyes. “I did it for you! You were twenty years old, working two jobs! You couldn't afford a sick baby! Dante said—”
“Dante used you,” Luca interrupted violently. “He used you to scam his own brother, and then he killed my wife when she found out. And now he’s going to kill you, too, Mary.”
“He loves me!” she cried.
“Does he?”
Luca pointed toward the pier.
My mother glanced over her shoulder.
Dante was already walking up the gangway of the cargo ship, dragging Matteo behind him. He hadn't even looked back. He was leaving her behind to face Luca’s wrath.
My mother’s face crumpled as the realization hit her. The man she had committed unspeakable crimes for was abandoning her in the rain.
She slowly lowered the shotgun.
But as the barrel dipped, a gunshot cracked through the night air.
My mother gasped.
She dropped the shotgun, her hands flying to her chest. A dark stain bloomed across her raincoat.
“Mom!” I screamed, running toward her as she collapsed onto the wet concrete.
Luca spun around, firing two suppressed shots into the shadows. A sniper positioned on top of a shipping container tumbled over the edge, crashing to the ground. Dante had left men behind to silence my mother.
I fell to my knees, pressing my hands against my mother’s chest, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Hannah,” she coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of her lips.
“Hold on, Mom. Please hold on,” I sobbed, the betrayal temporarily eclipsed by the sheer terror of losing her.
She reached up with a trembling, bloodstained hand and pressed something into my palm.
A silver rosary.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes losing focus. “I was so greedy… I wanted a better life for us. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I cried, gripping her hand.
“Hannah… listen to me,” she gasped, her grip tightening with surprising strength. “Dante… he doesn't just want the boy.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wants… the offshore accounts,” she wheezed. “Catherine’s accounts. They can only be accessed… by her blood. By Matteo.”
My blood turned to ice. Dante didn't want my son because he cared about him. He wanted him as a biological key to unlock billions of dollars hidden in offshore trusts.
My mother’s eyes fluttered shut. Her hand went limp in mine.
“Mom?” I shook her. “Mom!”
She was gone.
Luca knelt beside me, pulling me up from the concrete. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying resolve.
“We have to go,” Luca said gently, pulling me away from her body. “The ship is preparing to cast off.”
I looked at my mother one last time, clutching the silver rosary in my hand. The grief hardened into something else. Something sharp and unbreakable.
“Give me a gun,” I said.
Luca looked at me, seeing the absolute fire in my eyes. He didn't argue. He reached into his waistband and handed me a heavier, 9mm pistol.
We ran toward Pier 4 just as the massive cargo ship’s horn blasted, signaling its departure. The gangway was being pulled up.
Luca didn't hesitate. He sprinted and leaped across the growing gap between the pier and the ship, landing hard on the steel deck. He turned and reached out his hand.
“Jump!” he yelled.
I threw myself across the dark water, grabbing his hand. He hauled me up over the railing just as the ship pulled away from the dock.
We were on board.
We crept through the narrow metal corridors, the hum of the massive engines vibrating through our shoes. We checked every cabin, moving silently toward the bridge.
Suddenly, a child’s scream echoed from the cargo hold below us.
“No! Let me go!”
It was Matteo.
Luca’s eyes darkened. He kicked open the heavy metal door leading down to the hold.
We descended the grating stairs. The hold was massive, filled with wooden crates and luxury cars.
In the center of the room, Dante Moretti was dragging Matteo toward a secure cabin. The little boy was kicking and fighting with all his might.
“Let him go, Dante,” Luca’s voice boomed, echoing off the steel walls.
Dante froze. He slowly turned around, pulling a gun and pressing it to Matteo’s head.
“Well, well,” Dante smiled, the scar on his face twisting. “Family reunion.”
But before Luca could speak, a strange, rhythmic ticking sound echoed through the cargo hold.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Dante’s smile vanished. He looked down at the wooden crate beside him.
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“You idiot,” Dante whispered, staring at Luca in horror. “You didn't come alone, did you?”
TITLE: The Child's Drawing
