Chapter 4 - The Price of A Stolen Childhood
Before Carlo’s words could even fully register in my mind, Luca moved.
He crossed the distance between us in a fraction of a second, grabbing my waist and pulling me behind his large, protective frame.
The heat radiating from his back was a stark contrast to the ice-cold fear flooding my veins.
“Nobody is touching her,” Luca warned, his voice a low, lethal growl.
He withdrew a heavy, matte-black Glock from his shoulder holster, aiming it directly at Carlo’s chest.
Michael immediately pulled Ivy behind a thick marble pillar, shielding her from the center of the room.
The three enforcers who had just knelt before me instantly jumped to their feet, their own weapons drawn and pointed at Luca.
“Put the gun down, Mr. Moretti,” Carlo said smoothly, recovering his composure. He picked up his cane, leaning on it heavily. “You are out of your depth. You thought you were dealing with a simple gambling debt. You have just stumbled into a blood feud that is fifty years old.”
I clutched the back of Luca’s suit jacket, my hands trembling.
The antique silver ring felt like a burning coal against my chest.
“Who is she, Carlo?” Vanessa whispered from the floor, her eyes darting between me and the Italian businessman. “She’s just a maid. I hired her from an agency!”
Carlo let out a dry, humorless laugh.
“Your maid, Vanessa, is the lost princess of the Naples Syndicate,” Carlo said, his eyes fixed on me. “Fifty years ago, her grandmother, Elena, fled Italy with the family’s signet ring. Without that ring, the five families have been unable to crown a true leader. The underground has been in chaos ever since.”
Luca didn't lower his weapon. “I don't care who her grandmother was. Emily is under my protection.”
Carlo shook his head slowly.
“You cannot protect her from this, Luca,” Carlo warned. “The bounty on the heir’s head is fifty million dollars. Every hitman, every enforcer, and every rival family from Rome to New York will come for her once word gets out.”
My breath hitched.
Fifty million dollars.
My mother was working double shifts at a diner just to pay the heating bill for our tiny apartment, and my bloodline was worth a fortune to the most dangerous men in the world.
“Then word won't get out,” Luca said darkly.
He cocked the hammer of his gun.
“Because you aren't leaving this room alive, Carlo.”
Carlo’s confident smile vanished. He realized Luca wasn't bluffing.
“Wait!”
It was Michael.
He stepped out from behind the marble pillar, leaving Ivy safely tucked away.
In his hands, Michael held a small, beautifully carved wooden music box.
I recognized it immediately. It was the box Ivy kept on her nightstand. She played it every night before she went to sleep.
“Before you start shooting,” Michael said, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and grief. “I think you need to see what my daughter has been hiding in her room.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the box.
“Michael, put that down!” she shrieked, scrambling to her feet. “Don't open it!”
Michael ignored her. He flicked the tiny brass latch.
The lid popped open, and the delicate sound of Swan Lake filled the tense silence of the dining room.
But it wasn't the music that caught everyone’s attention.
It was the stack of letters folded neatly inside.
Michael pulled out the top letter. It was written in thick, black ink.
“Ivy told me she found these hidden in the floorboards of the house in Italy,” Michael said, his voice breaking. “She couldn't read them, but she brought them with her because they smelled like her mother's perfume.”
Michael unfolded the letter.
“It's a letter from your father, Vanessa,” Michael said, looking at her with absolute disgust. “Written to Carlo Romano. Five years ago.”
Carlo took a step back, his face suddenly turning pale.
“Give me that,” Carlo demanded.
“Shut up,” Luca snapped, keeping his gun aimed at the businessman. “Read it, Mike.”
Michael cleared his throat.
“Carlo. The girl is growing fast. Her hair is too dark, her eyes are too much like the Moretti boy. If Luca ever sees her, he will know she is his brother’s child. The wedding will be ruined.”
Michael swallowed hard, tears welling in his eyes.
“We cannot let the Moretti alliance fail. Enclosed is the first payment of two million dollars. In exchange, I need you to arrange a tragic accident for my daughter Vanessa’s child. Make sure it looks natural. The mother must never know we ordered it.”
The music box Tinkled softly in the silence.
I covered my mouth with both hands.
Vanessa let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed into a chair, violently shaking her head.
“No!” she sobbed uncontrollably. “No, my father wouldn't! He told me Carlo wanted her as collateral! He told me it was just a contract!”
Another brutal reversal.
Vanessa’s father hadn't sold Ivy into marriage. He had paid Carlo to murder his own granddaughter to protect the wedding alliance.
But Carlo hadn't done it.
He had kept Ivy alive to blackmail Vanessa directly, creating the fake contract to torture her.
“You lied to me,” Vanessa whispered, staring at Carlo with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You told me if I didn't marry Luca, you'd take her away. You were just bleeding me for money while holding a hit over my baby's head!”
Carlo sneered. “Business is business, my dear. Why kill the child when her existence was so profitable?”
Luca’s expression turned utterly lethal.
“You threatened my niece,” Luca whispered.
But before Luca could pull the trigger, the heavy oak doors opened again.
A tiny figure stepped into the room.
Ivy.
She wasn't holding her stuffed rabbit anymore.
She was holding a heavy, gold pocket watch.
“Mr. Carlo dropped this in the hallway before dinner,” Ivy said softly, holding the watch up.
Carlo’s hand flew to his vest pocket. His eyes widened in absolute terror.
“Give that back to me, you little brat!” Carlo yelled, stepping forward.
Luca fired a warning shot directly into the floor at Carlo’s feet. The blast was deafening.
Carlo froze.
Ivy walked over to me, her small hand reaching out.
She placed the heavy gold watch into my palm.
“Miss Emily,” Ivy whispered. “The picture inside looks just like you.”
I clicked the small latch on the side of the watch. The gold cover popped open.
Inside was a faded, black-and-white photograph of a young woman holding a baby.
I stopped breathing.
The woman was my grandmother, Elena.
And the baby in her arms... was Carlo Romano.
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I looked up at the ruthless Italian businessman, my mind spinning.
“You're not just trying to collect a bounty on the heir,” I whispered, my voice echoing in the silent room. “You're trying to erase the true bloodline... because you're my uncle.”
