Chapter 4 - THE EMPTY WHEELCHAIR
“We’re going to the hospital. Because if Dominic is here, then Vanessa is already with your father.”
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My vision blurred.
“My dad is at St. Jude’s,” I said, my voice cracking. “He can’t walk. He can’t speak.”
“He won’t need to,” Luca said.
He grabbed his long black cashmere coat and tossed me mine.
We rushed down the back staircase, avoiding the dining room where the engagement party had completely unraveled.
Maria Conti followed us to the kitchen doors.
“Luca,” the old seamstress said gently.
Luca paused.
Maria held out the piece of ivory lace.
“Your mother didn’t just sew this onto her veil because it was pretty,” Maria said. “Look at the pattern.”
Luca took the lace.
I looked closely. Woven into the intricate ivory threads were tiny numbers.
0-4-2-9.
“It’s a combination,” Luca realized.
“To a safety deposit box,” Maria confirmed. “She gave it to me before she died. She told me to keep it safe until you were ready to see the truth about your father’s business.”
Luca carefully folded the lace and put it in his pocket.
“Thank you, Maria.”
Ten minutes later, Luca’s black SUV tore through the wet streets of Chicago.
I sat in the passenger seat, gripping my father’s gold watch so tightly the metal dug into my palm.
“Why didn’t you know my dad?” I asked, staring out at the blurred streetlights. “If he worked for your mother, why didn’t you recognize my last name when you hired me?”
Luca kept his eyes on the road.
“My father kept his business separate from my mother. When she died, a lot of secrets died with her. I knew the name Reed, but I thought the firm burned down in an accident. I had no idea Thomas had a daughter.”
He looked at me for a split second.
“If I had known, Emma, I would have protected you both.”
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache.
We pulled up to St. Jude’s Long-Term Care Facility.
It was past visiting hours. The lobby was quiet and dimly lit.
We bypassed the front desk, moving quickly toward the elevators.
Room 412.
My father’s room.
When we stepped off the elevator, the hallway was completely empty. No nurses. No orderlies.
The door to Room 412 was slightly ajar.
I pushed it open, my heart in my throat.
“Dad?”
The room was dark.
The hospital bed was unmade.
The heart monitor was switched off.
And my father’s wheelchair, the one he had spent the last ten years confined to, sat empty by the window.
“No,” I gasped, rushing to the bathroom. Empty.
I checked the closet. Empty.
“He’s gone,” I panicked, spinning around to face Luca. “They took him.”
Luca walked over to the hospital bed.
He didn’t look at the sheets. He looked at the bedside table.
Sitting perfectly centered on the tray was a pristine white envelope.
Vanessa’s stationary.
Luca picked it up and opened it.
He read it silently, his jaw clenching.
“What does it say?” I asked, stepping closer.
Luca handed it to me.
“You embarrassed me tonight, Luca. But I always win. Bring the ledger and the silver key to the old Bellini warehouse on Pier 4. Come alone. Or Emma’s father has another accident.”
I crumpled the note in my hand.
“We have to go to the police,” I said.
“The police can’t help us, Emma,” Luca said gently. “Vanessa’s father pays half the precinct. If we call the cops, your dad is dead.”
“Then what do we do?” I pleaded.
Luca looked at the empty wheelchair.
“We give them what they want.”
I stared at him. “You’re going to give them the ledger? The proof that they burned my dad’s office?”
“I don’t care about the ledger,” Luca said, stepping closer. He reached out and gently took my trembling hand. “I care about getting your father back safely.”
I looked up into his dark eyes.
He wasn’t the cold, terrifying mafia boss the rumors claimed he was. He was a man who protected his people. And somehow, I had become one of his people.
Suddenly, a noise came from the hallway.
Footsteps. Heavy and fast.
Luca pushed me behind him, reaching inside his coat for his weapon.
A man appeared in the doorway of Room 412.
He was breathing hard, wearing a soaked trench coat. He looked terrified.
I recognized him immediately from the old photograph Maria had shown us.
It was David Mercer. Vanessa’s husband.
David threw his hands up.
“Don’t shoot!” David gasped. “I didn’t take him! But I know where he is.”
Luca leveled the gun at David’s chest.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
David swallowed hard.
“Because Vanessa didn’t take him either,” David said. “I was hiding outside the hospital. I saw who wheeled him out.”
May you like
David pointed a shaking finger at me.
“It was her mother.”
