The Locksmith Was Just The Beginning

The silence in the boiler room was deafening.

Three Romano hitters.

One traitorous fiancée.

And a janitor who suddenly looked very out of his depth.

I didn’t look at the guns. I looked at Lily. She was shaking, her small body curled into a ball on the dusty gym mats.

“Drop the weapon, Luca,” Vanessa said, her voice dripping with triumph.

Luca didn’t move. His matte black handgun remained steady, pointed directly at Vanessa’s chest.

“If I drop it, we all die anyway, Vanessa. I know how Marcus works. He doesn’t leave witnesses.”

“Marcus isn’t here,” Vanessa smiled. “I am. And I say drop it.”

The Romano hitter on the left, a man with a thick scar across his jaw, racked the slide of his pistol. “Listen to the lady, Moretti.”

Luca looked at me.

His eyes were incredibly calm. It was the same look he had when he pressed the cold napkin to my neck in the staff office.

A silent promise.

I’ve got you.

“Rachel,” Luca said, not breaking eye contact with the hitters. “Close your eyes.”

I dropped to the floor, covering my ears, and squeezed my eyes shut.

The boiler room erupted.

The sound of gunfire in a concrete basement is not like the movies. It is physical. It punches the air out of your lungs.

I heard glass shatter. I heard a heavy thud as a body hit the linoleum.

I heard Vanessa scream.

When the shooting stopped, the smell of gunpowder and copper filled the air.

I opened my eyes.

Two of the Romano hitters were dead on the floor.

The third was pinned against the massive iron boiler, Luca’s forearm pressed crushing against his throat, Luca’s gun jammed under the man’s chin.

David Hall, the janitor, was sitting against the wall, clutching his shoulder. Blood was seeping through his blue uniform. He had taken a bullet meant for Luca.

And Vanessa?

She was scrambling up the concrete stairs, her cashmere coat stained with dust, desperately trying to escape.

“Lily!” I scrambled across the floor, ignoring the blood slicking the wax.

I reached her, grabbing the zip ties around her wrists. I couldn’t break them.

“Hold still, baby, hold still,” I sobbed.

Luca dropped the third hitter with a swift strike to the temple, leaving him unconscious. He walked over to us, pulling a small tactical knife from his belt.

In one smooth motion, he sliced the zip ties.

Lily threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder.

“Mommy, I was so scared,” she cried.

“I know, baby. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Luca knelt beside us. He reached out and gently rested his large hand on Lily’s head.

“You did a good job being brave, Lily,” he said softly.

Lily peeked out from my shoulder. She looked at the blood on Luca’s knuckles. “Are you the boss?”

Luca offered a faint, exhausted smile. “Something like that.”

He stood up, tapping his earpiece. “Paul. The auditorium doors are magnetically locked. Cut the power to the building.”

Ten seconds later, the basement went pitch black.

Then, the emergency lights flickered on, casting an eerie red glow over the room.

The heavy steel doors upstairs slammed open. Boots thundered down the hallway. Paul and the tactical team poured into the basement.

“Secure the casualties,” Luca ordered. “Get a medic for David.”

Paul looked up the stairs. “What about the fiancée?”

“She’s running,” Luca said, his voice turning ice-cold. “Let her run. She has nowhere to go. She’s going to run straight to Marcus.”

“Should we track her?”

“No.” Luca turned to me, his eyes dark. “Because tomorrow is Saturday. Tomorrow is my wedding day. And Vanessa is going to show up.”

I stared at him, holding Lily tight. “Why would she come back?”

“Because she’s greedy,” Luca said. “She knows she failed here tonight. But she also knows that if she doesn’t marry me tomorrow, she gets absolutely nothing. Marcus needs my money. She will play the victim. She’ll say the Romanos kidnapped her too.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled boarding pass I had found in the dining room.

“She will show up to the altar,” Luca said. “And we are going to let her.”

He walked over to David Hall, who was being bandaged by a medic.

“Your wife’s medical debt is cleared,” Luca told the gasping janitor. “And my private doctors will take over her hospice care. You earned your fifty thousand.”

David nodded weakly.

Luca turned back to Paul. “Take Rachel and Lily to the penthouse at the Four Seasons. Lock down the entire floor.”

“Mr. Moretti,” I stood up, holding Lily’s hand.

He stopped.

“What do I do tomorrow?” I asked.

Luca looked at the antique gold pocket watch still gripped tightly in my other hand.

“Tomorrow,” Luca said, “you serve the champagne.”

The next morning, the sun rose over Chicago as if nothing had happened.

I stood in the marble bathroom of the Four Seasons penthouse, staring at my reflection.

The bandage behind my ear was clean. My hair was pulled back into a neat, severe bun.

I was wearing my black maid’s uniform.

Lily was sitting on the plush king-sized bed in the next room, watching cartoons, guarded by two men the size of refrigerators. She was safe.

At 11:00 AM, Paul drove me back to the Moretti estate.

The house was transformed.

Thousands of white roses cascaded down the grand staircase. An orchestra was tuning their instruments in the ballroom. Two hundred of the most powerful people in the country were taking their seats.

And in the bridal suite upstairs, Vanessa Bellini was getting her makeup done.

She had returned at 6:00 AM, crying, claiming she had escaped her kidnappers. Luca had played the relieved, horrified fiancé perfectly.

I walked into the kitchen.

Mrs. Carter was arranging the champagne flutes on a silver tray. She looked up, relief flooding her face.

“Rachel! Where have you been? Mr. Moretti said you had a family emergency.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Carter.”

I picked up the silver tray.

“The ceremony is starting,” she said. “We wait by the double doors. When they say ‘I do,’ we serve.”

I nodded.

I walked out into the grand hallway. The music swelled.

The doors to the ballroom opened.

Vanessa walked down the aisle in a custom white silk gown. She looked flawless. Untouchable.