Chapter 7 - THE TICKING CLOCK
The silence in the hallway was deafening.
Dante, a man who had eaten dinner at Luca’s table for fifteen years, stood with his weapon leveled directly at Michael’s chest.
“Put the gun down, Dante,” Luca said.
His voice didn't shake. He didn't reach for a weapon. He stood between the gun and his family like a shield of absolute certainty.
Dante’s hand trembled slightly, a stark contrast to his usually cold demeanor.
“I can't do that, Boss,” Dante said, his voice rough. “If Michael remembers who cut those brakes, I’m a dead man anyway.”
Vanessa let out a strangled gasp from the floor.
“You told me my father ordered it!” she cried, staring at Dante. “You came to me at the hospital! You said if I kept Michael drugged, you would help me take down the Morettis from the inside!”
Marcus Bellini looked equally shocked. “Dante? You played us?”
Dante sneered at the old man.
“You Bellinis are too emotional,” Dante spat. “I needed Luca dead so I could take the Chicago territory. You wanted revenge for your brother. I just pointed you in the right direction and let you do the dirty work.”
I backed up slowly, pulling Nicholas tightly against my legs.
“Why Thomas?” I whispered, unable to stop myself. “Why kill my father?”
Dante’s eyes flicked to me.
“Your old man was a nuisance. He caught me under the car at the garage. I told him I was doing maintenance for Luca. But when Michael crashed instead of Luca, Thomas got suspicious. He demanded money to stay quiet. So, I handled him.”
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
My father hadn't died a drunk. He had died trying to blackmail the mafia to get us out of debt. He died trying to save me.
“Dante,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “You have one chance to walk out of this house alive. Put the gun down.”
“It’s too late for that,” Dante said, raising the barrel slightly. “I’m finishing the job. Michael dies tonight. And I’ll blame it on the Bellinis.”
He pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened.
Dante stared at his weapon in shock. He pulled the trigger again.
Click.
Luca reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a small, metallic object, tossing it onto the wooden floor.
It clattered loudly.
It was the firing pin to Dante’s gun.
Dante’s face drained of color.
“You think I didn't know someone inside was helping them?” Luca asked, taking a slow, predatory step forward. “I run this city, Dante. You think I didn't check the weapons in my own coat room before an engagement dinner with my enemies?”
Before Dante could react, Luca moved.
He didn't just punch the man; he dismantled him.
A brutal, calculated strike to the throat, followed by a sweeping kick to the knee that snapped with a sickening crunch. Dante hit the floor hard, gasping for air.
Luca stood over him, straightening his cuffs.
“Michael,” Luca said calmly. “Call our men. Take Dante to the basement.”
Michael, who looked like he had aged ten years in ten minutes, nodded. He stepped over the groaning underboss and pulled out his phone.
Marcus Bellini tried to quietly slip toward the stairs.
“Ah,” Luca said, turning around. “Marcus. We aren't finished.”
Marcus froze.
“You can't touch me, Luca,” Marcus stammered, pulling out the folded contract with my mother’s signature. “I still have the contract. I’ll ruin the maid’s mother.”
I felt my heart stop. The debt. Even with Dante handled, we were still trapped.
Luca walked slowly toward Marcus.
He didn't look angry anymore. He looked bored.
“Emily,” Luca called out, keeping his eyes on Marcus. “How much does your mother owe the bank?”
“Forty thousand dollars, sir,” I answered, my voice trembling.
Luca nodded. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a sleek, black checkbook. He clicked a pen and quickly scribbled something down.
He tore the check out and held it in front of Marcus’s face.
“I’m buying the debt,” Luca said.
Marcus scoffed. “I don't have to sell it to you.”
“Yes, you do,” Luca replied softly. “Because if you don't take this check right now, I will let Michael spend five minutes alone with Vanessa in a locked room. To return the favor for the hospital.”
Vanessa screamed. “Dad, take the check!”
Marcus looked at the check. Then at his terrified daughter. Then at Luca’s dead eyes.
With shaking hands, Marcus snatched the check.
He thrust the folded contract at Luca.
Luca didn't even read it. He handed the contract directly to me.
“Tear it up, Emily,” Luca said.
I stared at the paper. My mother’s signature at the bottom. The chains that had bound us to this nightmare.
I ripped it in half. Then again. And again, until it was nothing but confetti on the floor.
“Get out of my house,” Luca told the Bellinis. “Both of you. If I ever see you in Chicago again, I won't be writing a check.”
Vanessa scrambled to her feet, abandoning her broken engagement ring, and practically dragged her father down the stairs.
The front door slammed shut.
The house was suddenly violently quiet.
I looked down at Nicholas. He was trembling, staring at the spot where Vanessa had been.
Luca walked over and knelt in front of us.
“It’s over, buddy,” Luca said softly, pulling Nicholas into a tight embrace. “They’re gone. You don't ever have to take your hearing aids out again.”
Nicholas buried his face in his father’s neck and finally let out a loud, healing sob.
I stepped back to give them space.
As I did, my foot brushed against something heavy in the pocket of Luca’s discarded suit jacket, which was draped over a chair.
May you like
I looked down.
Sticking out of the pocket was a small, velvet jewelry box.
