Chapter 6 - THE SILVER KEY BELONGED TO A TRUNK
I slowly stood up from behind the altar.
Mrs. Carter stood amidst the plaster dust, holding out the small silver key.
Her hand wasn't shaking.
Luca lowered his gun, staring at the housekeeper in shock.
“You knew?” he asked quietly.
“I know everything that happens in this house, sir,” she replied.
She looked down at Carlo’s unconscious body.
“And I know he was about to let Thorne’s men through the front gates.”
I walked forward on trembling legs.
I reached out and took the small silver key from Mrs. Carter’s hand.
It felt heavy. Cold.
“What does it open?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Mrs. Carter looked at Luca, then back at me.
“It opens the steamer trunk in the attic. The one your mother left here twenty-three years ago.”
The chapel spun again.
“My mother?” I breathed. “My mother never stepped foot in this house. She was a waitress.”
“She was a waitress when she met your father,” Mrs. Carter corrected gently. “Before that, she was Elena Moretti’s younger sister.”
The silence in the room was absolute.
I looked at Luca.
His eyes were wide, the stoic mafia boss completely undone by the revelation.
“My aunt?” Luca whispered. “My mother’s sister died in a car accident in Italy before I was born.”
“That’s what your father wanted everyone to believe,” Mrs. Carter said grimly. “Because she didn’t die. She ran away with a mechanic. She wanted nothing to do with the mob. Elena helped her fake her death to protect her.”
She pointed to the key in my hand.
“You aren’t just a maid, Maria. You’re Luca’s first cousin. You carry the Moretti bloodline.”
I stared at the key.
I wasn't an outsider. I wasn't just a girl struggling to pay rent.
I belonged to the very family I had been cleaning up after.
“That’s why Thorne wants her,” Luca realized, his voice hardening.
“He doesn’t just want to destroy my estate. He wants the true heir. By mafia law, if he marries the last female bloodline of the founding family, he controls the entire syndicate.”
He looked at me.
The warmth in his eyes was replaced by a fierce, protective fire.
He wasn't looking at a servant anymore.
He was looking at family.
“He’s not going to touch you,” Luca swore.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath our feet.
The stained glass window frames rattled.
A massive plume of orange fire erupted in the distance, visible through the empty hole behind the altar.
“The front gates,” Luca said. “Thorne is here.”
“Go,” Mrs. Carter said, gripping her iron poker. “Take her to the attic. Find the trunk. I’ll lock the chapel doors behind you.”
Luca didn’t argue.
He grabbed my hand.
His grip was strong, warm, and absolute.
We ran out the back door of the chapel, into the cold night air.
We sprinted across the dark lawn, staying in the shadows of the massive oak trees.
Gunfire echoed from the front of the mansion.
Luca’s men were engaging Thorne’s forces.
We reached the servant’s entrance at the back of the kitchen.
Luca kicked the door open.
The house was dark, the emergency lockdown protocols having killed the main lights.
We took the servant stairs, taking them two at a time.
My lungs burned.
The cut on my arm throbbed violently, but I didn't stop.
We reached the fourth floor. The attic.
It was dusty, filled with old furniture covered in white sheets.
Luca pulled out a flashlight from his jacket and swept the beam across the room.
In the far corner, hidden beneath a heavy canvas tarp, was a dark green steamer trunk.
We rushed over to it.
Luca pulled the tarp off.
The brass locks were tarnished green with age.
“Open it,” Luca said, aiming the light at the lock.
My hands shook violently as I slid the silver key into the lock.
It clicked perfectly.
I threw open the heavy lid.
The smell of cedar and old paper wafted up.
Inside the trunk, there were no clothes. No jewels.
It was filled entirely with ledgers.
Black leather books, filled with handwritten notes.
I picked one up and opened it.
It was my mother’s handwriting.
October 4th, 1999.
Thorne didn’t act alone. Carlo Bellini provided the explosives for the warehouse. They are planning to kill Elena. I have the proof. I hid the audio tapes inside the-
The sentence cut off.
“Inside the what?” Luca demanded, leaning closer.
I flipped the page frantically.
The next page was torn out.
Someone had already been in this trunk.
I looked down at the bottom of the trunk.
Lying beneath the ledgers was a single object left behind.
It was a child’s stuffed bear.
But its stomach had been sliced open, the stuffing pulled out.
Luca reached in and pulled the bear out.
He turned it over.
May you like
Pinned to the back of the bear was a note, written in fresh, red ink.
Too late, Luca. Vanessa gave me the tapes yesterday. Come to the ballroom if you want the girl to live.
