Chapter 6 - THE BELLINI THUGS
Panic, sharp and suffocating, flooded the narrow hallway.
Luca immediately pushed Leo into my arms.
“Take him into the bedroom with your mother. Lock the door,” Luca ordered, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm.
“Luca, they have guns,” I whispered, clutching the little boy to my chest. Leo buried his face in my neck, trembling violently.
“So do I,” Luca replied.
He reached to the small of his back and pulled a sleek, black handgun from beneath his coat. He racked the slide with a sharp clack.
My mother grabbed my arm, pulling me toward her bedroom. We rushed inside, and I slammed the door, turning the deadbolt. I pushed my mother’s heavy oak dresser in front of it, the wood groaning against the floorboards.
I sat my mother on the bed and knelt on the floor, pulling Leo into my lap. I covered his ears with my hands, trying to shield him from the nightmare that was about to unfold in my living room.
Through the thin drywall, I heard a man shout.
“Check the back rooms!”
Then, two suppressed gunshots pffft, pffft cut through the air.
A heavy body hit the floor.
“He’s got a gun!” another man yelled.
Chaos erupted. Gunfire shattered the cheap plaster of my apartment walls. Pictures fell off the walls in the bedroom, glass shattering across the carpet. My mother prayed silently, her hands clasped together.
I squeezed my eyes shut, holding Leo tighter.
Please, God. Don't let Luca die. Not after he just found his son.
The gunfire stopped as abruptly as it had started.
Heavy footsteps approached the bedroom door. Someone rattled the knob.
I held my breath.
“Hannah,” Luca’s voice called out. It was strained, out of breath. “It’s me. Open the door.”
I scrambled up, pushed the dresser aside, and unlocked the door.
Luca stood in the hallway. His coat was discarded, his white dress shirt torn at the shoulder, revealing a nasty, bleeding graze from a bullet. But his eyes were clear and focused.
“Are you hurt?” I gasped, reaching for his arm.
“It’s a scratch,” he dismissed, though he winced slightly. “We have to move. Now. Arthur sent a hit squad. There will be more coming.”
He walked into the bedroom and knelt in front of Leo.
“Are you okay, buddy?” Luca asked softly.
Leo nodded, his wide eyes fixed on the blood on Luca’s shirt. “You got a boo-boo.”
Luca offered a tight smile. “I’m okay. But we have to go on a car ride, okay? A fast one.”
He picked Leo up and turned to my mother. “Mrs. Collins, can you walk down the stairs?”
“I’ll manage,” my mother said bravely, grabbing her walker.
We hurried out of the bedroom. I kept my eyes focused straight ahead, deliberately avoiding looking into the living room where three of Arthur Bellini’s men lay motionless on my rug.
We made it down the stairs and piled into Luca’s SUV. He slammed it into drive and sped away from the curb just as a black van turned the corner at the end of the street.
“Where are we going?” I asked from the backseat, sitting between my mother and Leo.
“Back to the estate,” Luca said, gripping the steering wheel. “It’s a fortress. Arthur can’t touch us there.”
“But Vanessa is at the estate,” I reminded him.
Luca’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Not for long.”
The drive took twenty agonizing minutes. When we finally pulled through the massive iron gates of the Moretti mansion, the property was swarming with armed guards. Michael had followed orders. The estate was locked down.
Luca parked near the front steps. He carried Leo inside, shielding him with his body.
Teresa was waiting in the grand foyer.
When she saw the little boy in Luca’s arms, she let out a cry that echoed all the way to the vaulted ceiling. She rushed forward, dropping to her knees on the marble floor.
Luca gently set Leo down.
“Mom,” Luca said, his voice thick. “This is Leo.”
Teresa couldn’t speak. She just wept, reaching out with trembling hands to touch the boy’s face, tracing the exact features of her son. Leo looked overwhelmed, but when Teresa pulled him into a gentle hug, he rested his chin on her shoulder.
It was a beautiful, heartbreaking moment.
But it was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass.
Luca’s head snapped toward the hallway leading to the study.
“Michael!” Luca shouted.
He drew his weapon and sprinted down the hall. I told my mother and Teresa to stay back, but I couldn’t stop myself from following him.
Luca kicked the study door open.
The room was a disaster. Books were thrown off the shelves. The heavy mahogany desk was overturned. The French doors leading to the back patio were shattered.
And lying on the floor, clutching his stomach, was Michael.
“Michael!” Luca dropped to his knees, pressing his hands against his brother’s bleeding abdomen.
“She… she had a gun hidden in her clutch,” Michael gasped, blood speckling his lips. “I tried to stop her, Luca. I swear I tried.”
“Don’t talk,” Luca ordered, pressing harder against the wound. “Hannah, call the estate doctor! Now!”
I scrambled to the desk phone and dialed the internal emergency number.
Michael grabbed Luca’s bloody shirt collar.
“She took it, Luca,” Michael choked out.
“Took what? It doesn’t matter, just stay awake.”
“The ledger,” Michael whispered, his eyes wide with fear. “Arthur’s secret ledger. I stole it from her father’s office a year ago. It’s the only reason they haven’t killed me. It has the account numbers of every politician and judge Arthur bought. She took it to trade to the Rossi family for protection.”
Luca’s face went pale.
“If the Rossis get that ledger,” Michael gasped, “they’ll own the city. And they’ll wipe our family out by morning.”
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Michael reached into his pocket with a trembling, blood-stained hand. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and shoved it into Luca’s palm.
“She’s going to the docks. Pier 42. Stop her, Luca.”
