Chapter 5 - THE LITTLE BLUE DRESS
Elena tried to climb out of the hospital bed.
Aleandro stopped her.
“Move.”
“No.”
“My daughter—”
“I’m getting her.”
“You don’t know where she is!”
“I will.”
Elena grabbed his coat.
Her fever had broken, but she was still weak.
“Lucia knows Emma.”
Aleandro looked at her.
“That’s why Emma went.”
Elena’s voice shattered.
“She trusts people who work in this house.”
The guilt was unbearable.
A three-year-old did not understand betrayal.
She understood familiar faces.
Lucia had probably smiled.
Held out her hand.
Said Mama asked for you.
And Emma had gone.
Aleandro looked at Dominic.
“Every camera.”
“Already pulling.”
“Service exits.”
“Yes.”
“Traffic feeds.”
“Working.”
“Vittorio’s properties.”
“Teams moving.”
Elena stared at him.
“Don’t make this a war.”
Aleandro’s expression tightened.
“It already is.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Emma is not one of your men.”
That stopped him.
“She cannot be collateral.”
He understood what Elena feared.
Men with guns.
Doors kicked in.
Cars chased.
One wrong move.
One terrified child.
Aleandro lowered his voice.
“She won’t be.”
He meant it.
They traced the service-gate car south.
Then west.
A plate reader caught it near Cicero.
The same area where one of Vittorio’s shell companies leased a warehouse.
Aleandro stared at the map.
Of course.
“Warehouse?”
Dominic nodded.
“We have eyes on it.”
“How many people?”
“Six outside.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
Aleandro closed his eyes.
The old Aleandro would have sent twelve men.
Surround.
Enter.
End it.
Elena’s words echoed.
Emma is not one of your men.
“Police?”
Dominic looked surprised.
“You want police?”
“I want a child alive.”
That answer changed the room.
Aleandro Romano did not involve police.
Not unless strategically unavoidable.
But this was not territory.
Not reputation.
Not business.
This was Emma.
He called one person.
Detective Aaron Walsh.
Chicago Police.
A man who hated Aleandro but hated child kidnappers more.
Walsh answered.
“Romano.”
“A child has been taken.”
Silence.
“Yours?”
“No.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
Aleandro looked at Elena.
“Because she’s under my protection.”
Walsh scoffed.
“That usually means something different in your world.”
“Today it means exactly what it should.”
Within forty minutes, a tactical team surrounded the warehouse area discreetly.
Aleandro hated waiting.
He hated not controlling the approach.
But he waited.
Because a three-year-old could not survive his impatience.
Then his phone rang.
Vittorio.
Aleandro answered.
“You have the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Bring it.”
“Let me hear Emma.”
Silence.
“Vittorio.”
A child’s voice came faintly.
“Mr. Aleandro?”
Everything inside him went still.
“Emma.”
“I want Mama.”
“I know.”
Her voice trembled.
“Lucia says I’m bad.”
Aleandro closed his eyes.
“No.”
“I left hospital.”
“You are not bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He heard Lucia’s voice in the background.
Enough.
Then Vittorio returned.
“Forty minutes.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
“Yes.”
“And Aleandro?”
“What?”
“If I see police, she disappears.”
The call ended.
Walsh listened through the recording.
“He’ll have watchers.”
“I know.”
“You can’t go in.”
“I’m going.”
“No.”
Aleandro looked at him.
“You want the child alive?”
“Yes.”
“So do I.”
“You’re emotionally involved.”
Aleandro almost smiled.
“For once.”
Walsh stared.
Then they built a plan.
Aleandro would carry the ledger.
No gun visible.
A wire hidden.
Tactical units would remain outside the visible perimeter.
Dominic protested.
“They’ll kill you.”
Aleandro looked toward the warehouse.
“Maybe.”
“That’s your answer?”
“No.”
He adjusted his cuff.
“My answer is if they wanted me dead, they wouldn’t need Emma.”
Inside the warehouse, the air smelled like oil and rust.
Vittorio stood near a steel table.
Lucia beside him.
Emma sat in a wooden chair.
Not tied.
That somehow made Aleandro angrier.
Her feet didn’t reach the floor.
Her blue dress was wrinkled.
One bare foot was dirty.
She had lost the other shoe from the hospital.
Aleandro stopped.
Emma saw him.
“Mr. Aleandro.”
She tried to stand.
Lucia gripped her shoulder.
“Stay.”
Aleandro’s face changed.
“Take your hand off her.”
Vittorio smiled.
“Still sentimental.”
Aleandro held up the ledger.
“Let her go.”
“Give me that.”
“First Emma.”
Vittorio laughed.
“You think you have leverage?”
“I have everything you’ve spent eleven years hiding.”
“Then you understand why I need it.”
Aleandro looked at Lucia.
“You took her from a hospital.”
Lucia’s expression remained flat.
“She came willingly.”
“She’s three.”
“She trusts me.”
Emma began crying quietly.
Aleandro looked at her.
“Little one.”
She sniffed.
“Look at me.”
Emma did.
“Remember the shirt?”
She nodded.
“You did not need to fix it.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“You do not need to fix this either.”
Vittorio’s smile faded.
Aleandro continued.
“The adults fix this.”
Emma’s breathing slowed.
“Can I go Mama?”
“Yes.”
Vittorio laughed.
“No.”
Aleandro looked at him.
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“And?”
“The letter.”
“And?”
“A statement that the accounts were restructured under your authority.”
Aleandro stared.
“You want me to take responsibility.”
“Yes.”
“For theft?”
“For family financing.”
Aleandro nodded slowly.
“And Emma walks out?”
“Yes.”
“Lucia too?”
Lucia looked toward Vittorio.
Interesting.
She had not known that part.
Aleandro saw it.
“What happens to her?”
Vittorio’s expression barely changed.
“Not your concern.”
Lucia stepped back.
“Vittorio.”
He ignored her.
Aleandro understood.
He had always known his uncle was ruthless.
Lucia had apparently mistaken partnership for loyalty.
“What happens to her?”
Aleandro asked again.
Vittorio raised his gun.
“Put the ledger down.”
Aleandro did.
“Now the letter.”
Aleandro reached inside his coat.
Emma screamed.
“Don’t!”
Everyone froze.
The child pointed.
“Gun.”
Not Vittorio’s.
Lucia’s.
She had pulled one from beneath her sweater.
But it wasn’t aimed at Aleandro.
It was aimed at Vittorio.
“You said no one gets hurt.”
Vittorio stared at her.
“You kidnapped a child.”
“You told me we were getting leverage.”
“And now we have it.”
Lucia’s hand shook.
“You said after he signs, we leave.”
“We?”
Vittorio smiled.
Lucia’s face changed.
She finally understood.
There was no we.
Aleandro kept his voice calm.
“Lucia.”
She looked at him.
“Put the gun down.”
“He’ll kill me.”
“Not if you put it down.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise he doesn’t leave this building with Emma.”
Vittorio laughed.
Then swung his gun toward Lucia.
Everything happened at once.
Emma screamed.
Lucia fired.
The shot went wide.
Aleandro lunged for Emma.
Vittorio fired.
A bullet struck the steel table.
Police crashed through the side entrance.
“DROP IT!”
Vittorio turned.
Too slow.
He was tackled.
Lucia dropped her weapon and raised both hands.
Aleandro hit the floor with Emma beneath him.
For one second, all he heard was screaming.
Orders.
Boots.
Metal.
Then a tiny voice against his chest.
“My finger hurts.”
Aleandro lifted his head.
Emma stared at him.
Alive.
No gunshot.
No blood except the old tiny bandage.
Her injured finger had caught against his coat button.
Aleandro laughed.
A sound almost unfamiliar.
Then he held her.
Really held her.
Not like a man carrying something fragile.
Like someone terrified to let go.
“You’re okay.”
Emma cried against him.
“I want Mama.”
“We’re going.”
Outside, Elena was waiting in an ambulance because nobody had been able to keep her at the hospital after hearing the address.
Emma saw her.
“Mama!”
Aleandro carried her the last twenty feet.
Then gave her back.
Elena collapsed around her daughter.
Aleandro stepped away.
This was not his moment.
Mother and child.
He turned.
Walsh approached.
“Your uncle’s alive.”
Aleandro’s face hardened.
“Good.”
Walsh raised an eyebrow.
“You surprise me.”
“I want him to answer questions.”
“He will.”
“And Lucia?”
“Custody.”
“She cooperated at the end.”
“She kidnapped a child.”
“I know.”
Walsh studied him.
“You want mercy?”
Aleandro looked toward Emma.
“No.”
He paused.
“I want accuracy.”
Walsh nodded.
Then handed him the ledger.
Evidence bag.
“You realize this could open old cases.”
“Yes.”
“Including your father.”
Aleandro looked at it.
“I know.”
Three days later, the medical examiner agreed to review Francesco Romano’s death.
And what they found in the old medication records turned a financial conspiracy into murder.
Someone had doubled his heart medication for five consecutive days.
The signature on the medication log belonged to Lucia DeLuca.
But when detectives confronted her, Lucia finally told the truth.
She had altered the pills.
Under Vittorio’s orders.
Because Francesco Romano had discovered the missing charity money.
And Daniel Bell had been right.
Aleandro’s father had not died naturally.
May you like
He had been killed inside his own home.
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