Chapter 5 - THE CHILD'S DRAWING
The screams of the dinner guests shattered the heavy silence. Chairs scraped violently against the floor as thirty-six of New Jersey's elite scrambled backward, desperate to get out of the line of fire.
"Nobody move!" Vincent roared, waving the gun between me and Dominic.
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't feel my legs. I just felt Anthony’s frail hands gripping my apron, pulling me slightly behind his chair as if his fragile body could shield me.
"Put it down, Vinnie," Dominic said. His voice was terrifyingly low, carrying no panic, only a dark, impending violence. "You shoot her, you die before the casing hits the floor."
"I'm already dead in this family!" Vincent spat, his eyes wide and frantic. "You'd give it all to some kid you've never even met!"
"He's your nephew," Dominic said, taking one slow step forward.
"He's a threat!" Vincent yelled.
Catherine pressed herself against the dining room wall, her eyes darting toward the hallway. "Vincent, put the gun down. The police are outside. We can make a deal."
"There are no police, Catherine," Vincent sneered. "I had my guys flash sirens at the gate to cause a distraction."
He stepped closer to me, the barrel of the gun leveling perfectly with my heart. "Emily. Toss me your phone."
My hands shook as I reached into my apron pocket and pulled out my phone. I slid it across the long table. It stopped near the centerpiece.
"Unlock it," Vincent demanded. "Give me the address for St. Jude's."
Dominic stopped. "You're not going near my son."
"I'm going to finish what I started six months ago," Vincent said, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Now, give me the address, or I put a bullet in her."
I looked at Dominic. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. He gave me a microscopic nod.
I reached for my phone, unlocked it, and pulled up my contacts. But as I did, my photo gallery opened. The last picture I had saved was a drawing Toby had mailed me last week.
Vincent snatched the phone. He looked at the screen and froze.
"What is this?" Vincent whispered.
He turned the phone around. It was a crude crayon drawing of a boy standing in front of a large brick building. But above the building, drawn in messy gold crayon, was a highly specific, intricate emblem: a lion holding a broken sword.
The Romano family crest.
"Toby drew that," I said, my voice shaking. "He said a nice man came to visit him at school. A man who wore a pin with that symbol on his lapel."
Dominic’s eyes snapped to his brother. "You've already been there?"
Vincent looked genuinely confused. "No. I swear, Dom. I've never been to St. Jude's. I didn't even know where the kid was until tonight."
If Vincent hadn't visited him... who had?
Anthony leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the drawing. "I haven't left this house in six months. It wasn't me."
Everyone in the room fell completely still. If it wasn't Dominic, Vincent, or Anthony... who was wearing the Romano crest to visit a hidden child?
Suddenly, a loud beep echoed through the room. It came from Catherine’s dropped purse.
Dominic looked down. He kicked the purse over. A sleek, black satellite phone tumbled out—a phone used strictly by rival families to avoid wiretaps.
It was ringing. The caller ID glowed bright white against the dark floor.
Enzo Moretti.
Dominic looked up at his fiancée, the blood draining from his face.
May you like
"Catherine," Dominic whispered. "What have you done?"
Catherine didn't answer. She lunged for the hallway doors, disappearing into the dark corridor.
