Chapter 5 - THE BLUE MITTEN IN THE DARK
The sight of that tiny blue mitten in the dirt paralyzed me.
Someone had been following us. Someone had watched my son play on the swings, watched us walk home, watched us struggle. Victor had known about Leo long before tonight.
Roman saw the terror in my eyes. He picked up the mitten, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.
“He was waiting for the birthday,” Roman growled, his voice echoing in the damp tunnel. “He wanted to strike right before the trust matured, so there would be no legal complications. My presence tonight just forced his hand early.”
“He’s a monster,” I whispered, pulling Leo into my arms to carry him. He felt so fragile, so small against the terrifying reality closing in on us.
“Keep moving,” Marcus ordered softly from behind us, his flashlight cutting through the gloom. “They’ll realize we didn't go out the front soon.”
We navigated the old prohibition tunnels for miles, walking beneath the sleeping city of Chicago. Roman leaned heavily on the damp brick walls, his breathing labored. I wanted to tell him to stop, to rest, but I knew stopping meant death.
Eventually, we reached an old maintenance ladder that led up to a grated manhole cover.
Marcus climbed up and pushed the heavy iron lid aside. We emerged in an alley behind a high-end car dealership.
Ten minutes later, Marcus had hotwired a sleek, black SUV from the lot.
“To the estate,” Roman commanded, slumping into the passenger seat.
We drove through the rain-slicked streets, bypassing the city and heading toward the affluent northern suburbs.
The Moretti estate was a fortress. Wrought-iron gates, twelve-foot stone walls, and armed guards patrolling the grounds with tactical dogs. When the guards saw Roman, they immediately opened the gates.
We drove up a winding driveway to a massive, gothic-style mansion.
“Get her inside. Secure the perimeter,” Roman barked as we exited the vehicle. “Nobody gets in. If Victor shows up, you shoot on sight.”
The inside of the mansion was breathtaking. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, priceless art. It was a world Leo and I didn't belong in, a world Julian had tried to escape.
A silver-haired woman in a silk robe rushed down the grand staircase.
“Roman!” she cried, seeing his bloodied shirt.
“I’m fine, Mother,” Roman deflected, leaning against the foyer table.
Isabella Moretti stopped halfway down the stairs. Her eyes bypassed Roman and landed entirely on me. And then, on Leo, who was hiding behind my legs.
Isabella’s breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her chest, her regal composure shattering in a single instant.
“Those eyes,” she whispered, tears instantly filling her vision. “Julian’s eyes.”
“He’s Julian’s son, Ma,” Roman said softly. “Victor found out. He’s coming for him.”
Isabella descended the remaining stairs quickly. She didn't look at my cheap, bloodstained clothes. She knelt on the cold marble floor, right in front of Leo.
“Hello, little one,” she said, her voice breaking.
Leo peeked out from behind me. “Are you a queen?” he asked innocently, touching the silk of her robe.
Isabella let out a wet laugh. “No, my darling. I’m your grandmother.”
Before she could embrace him, the massive oak front doors rattled violently.
The security alarms blared, a piercing, deafening shriek that echoed through the entire mansion.
Marcus ran into the foyer, his radio crackling wildly.
“Boss! The perimeter is breached. Victor brought an army. They just blew the main gate.”
Roman drew his weapon, his face devoid of fear, leaving only cold fury.
“Take them to the safe room,” Roman ordered his mother.
Isabella grabbed my hand. “Come with me.”
We ran toward the back of the house, down a long hallway lined with family portraits.
But as we rounded the corner toward the library, the lights suddenly flickered and died. The estate was plunged into total darkness.
“They cut the power,” Isabella hissed.
And from the shadows at the end of the hall, a flashlight beam clicked on, shining directly in our faces.
“Hello, Mother,” Victor’s voice echoed in the dark.
He stepped forward, holding a terrifyingly large hunting knife.
“Did you really think a few guards could keep me out of my own house?” Victor sneered.
He looked at Leo.
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“Happy early birthday, kid.”
TITLE: THE HUNTING KNIFE IN THE DARK
