Chapter 6 - BURIED BENEATH THE OLD OAK TREE
The harsh glare of the headlights blinded me. I pulled Oliver tight against my chest, shielding his eyes from the piercing beams.
Silvio stood at the edge of the overgrown yard, his expensive overcoat dry beneath an umbrella held by one of his thugs. He looked entirely too calm for a man whose empire was built on lies.
“Hand over the tin, Luca,” Silvio ordered, waving the forged document. “The commission has declared you a traitor. I’m taking control of the family.”
Luca didn't flinch. He didn't drop the rusted tin. He stepped in front of me, placing his body squarely between my son and the guns pointed at us.
“You’re a liar, old man,” Luca spat, his voice cutting through the heavy rain. “I have Matteo’s letter. I have his signet ring. You ordered his death to steal the family trust!”
Silvio laughed. It was a horrible, grating sound. “A letter? Easily forged. Just like the lies you’ve been feeding the commission. But this—” He tapped the document in his hand. “This is a sworn statement from Vanessa. She witnessed you kill Matteo at the docks three years ago. You did it for power, Luca.”
“Vanessa is a snake you bought and paid for!” I screamed, unable to stay silent. “She confessed on tape! We have the recording!”
Silvio’s eyes flicked to me, cold and indifferent. “Ah, the maid. Your word means nothing here. You’re just a gold-digger who hooked her claws into a weak man.”
Silvio gestured to his men. “Take the kid. Leave the adults.”
The men stepped forward.
“No!” I shrieked, backing against the trunk of the oak tree.
Luca drew his weapon in a blur of motion, firing twice into the dirt at the feet of the advancing men. They stopped, raising their own guns.
“You take one more step toward my nephew,” Luca growled, “and I’ll put a bullet right between your eyes, Silvio. I don't care if I die tonight. I will take you to hell with me.”
A tense, suffocating standoff settled over the muddy yard.
Silvio narrowed his eyes. He knew Luca wasn't bluffing. Luca was a dead man walking, and a dead man had nothing to lose.
“You think you can protect them forever?” Silvio sneered. “The money is gone, Luca. Even if you kill me, the commission will hunt you down for losing the funds.”
“The money isn't gone,” Luca said softly. He held up Matteo’s letter. “Matteo locked the funds in a blood-heir trust. You can't touch it. And neither can the commission, unless I tell them how to access it.”
Silvio’s confident mask cracked. He took a step forward, ignoring the rain. “He’s lying! He didn't have time to set up a trust!”
“Then shoot me,” Luca challenged. “Shoot me, and the money disappears forever. The European buyers will execute you for failing to deliver.”
Silvio hesitated. Greed warred with his desire to end Luca. Greed won.
“Where are the account numbers?” Silvio demanded, his voice tight.
“Call off your men. Let Claire and the boy walk to the car. Once they are safely driving away, I’ll give you the numbers.”
I grabbed Luca’s arm. “No! I won't leave you!”
“Go, Claire,” Luca whispered fiercely, not taking his eyes off Silvio. “This is the only way.”
Silvio smirked. “A noble sacrifice. Fine. Let the maid pass.”
His men lowered their guns just an inch, clearing a path to the street.
I took a step forward, trembling violently. But Oliver dug his heels into the mud. He refused to move.
“Oliver, please,” I begged, pulling his arm.
“No,” my five-year-old son said firmly. He looked directly at Silvio. “You can't have my Daddy’s money.”
Silvio rolled his eyes. “Get the brat out of here.”
But Oliver reached up with his free hand. He undid the clasp of the silver watch he had carried all night. The watch that had started this entire nightmare at the dinner table.
He held it up in the rain.
“Daddy said the numbers are safe inside,” Oliver said clearly.
The breath left my lungs.
Luca froze, turning his head slowly to look at the watch in Oliver’s tiny hand.
The watch with the deep scratch across the glass. The watch that had stopped at exactly 8:17.
“The watch,” Luca whispered, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. “He gave the boy the watch the night he disappeared. He didn't just give him a keepsake.”
Silvio’s eyes locked onto the silver timepiece. Greed flashed in his eyes.
“Get that watch!” Silvio roared.
But before anyone could move, the wail of police sirens suddenly split the night air, converging on the house from every direction.
Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the alley.
A megaphone blared. “Chicago Police! Drop your weapons!”
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Silvio cursed violently. He turned and sprinted toward his car, his men scattering into the darkness.
Luca scooped Oliver up in one arm and grabbed my hand with the other. We didn't run from the police. We ran toward them.
