The Locksmith Was Just The Beginning

The priest’s voice echoed through the vaulted ceiling of the ballroom.

“…if anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

Silence filled the room.

Two hundred guests held their breath.

Vanessa smiled up at Luca, her eyes shining with fake devotion. She had played her part perfectly. She thought she had won.

“Do you, Luca Moretti, take Vanessa…”

I stepped forward.

My black flat shoes made no sound on the marble floor, but the movement caught the eye of the guests in the back rows.

I didn’t stop.

I walked straight down the center aisle.

Whispers broke out like a wave rippling through the crowd.

“What is the maid doing?” someone hissed.

Mrs. Carter gasped from the doorway.

I kept my eyes locked on Luca. He didn’t move. He didn’t look angry. He looked exactly like a man who was watching a trap snap shut.

Vanessa turned her head.

When she saw me, her flawless smile faltered. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her looking sickly white against her wedding dress.

She opened her mouth to speak, to order security to drag me out, but no sound came out.

I stopped three feet from the altar.

I didn’t look at Vanessa. I looked at the priest.

“Excuse me, Father,” I said, my voice remarkably steady for a woman whose hands were shaking under the silver tray. “I have the rings.”

The priest blinked, confused. “The best man usually—”

“Miss Bellini requested a special delivery,” I said.

I lowered the tray.

Resting in the center of the silver platter wasn’t a velvet box.

It was a crumpled First Class boarding pass to Rome.

And next to it was the heavy, antique gold pocket watch. The one with the Romano crest hidden inside.

Vanessa stared at the tray.

Her breath hitched. A physical tremor ran through her body, rattling the diamonds at her throat.

She recognized the ticket. And she recognized the watch.

The guests were murmuring louder now. They couldn’t see what was on the tray, but they could see the sheer panic radiating from the bride.

Luca finally stepped away from the altar.

He walked slowly down the short steps, stopping right in front of Vanessa.

“You lost something, darling,” Luca said softly.

He picked up the boarding pass.

“A ticket to Rome. With Marcus.”

Vanessa’s eyes darted frantically around the room. She was calculating. Looking for an exit. Looking for her Romano guards.

But she wouldn’t find them. Paul and the tactical team had locked down every exit twenty minutes ago.

“Luca, I… I can explain,” Vanessa stammered, her voice high and desperate. “They forced me. They said if I didn’t help them, they would—”

“Kill me?” Luca finished for her. “I know. You were very convincing in the boiler room last night.”

The whispers in the crowd erupted into shocked gasps. The word "boiler room" meant nothing to them, but the tone of Luca’s voice meant everything.

“It’s a lie!” Vanessa shrieked, suddenly pointing a manicured finger at me. “She’s lying! She’s a thief and a liar! She’s obsessed with you, Luca! She planted those things!”

I didn’t flinch. I just stood there, holding the tray.

Luca picked up the gold pocket watch.

He didn’t look at me. He looked at the crowd.

“For the past month, my fiancée has been terminating the contracts of my most loyal staff,” Luca’s voice boomed across the ballroom, silencing the room instantly.

“She was replacing them with men loyal to the Romano family. The same family that put my brother in a wheelchair three years ago.”

A collective gasp went up from the front row, where Luca’s family sat. His brother, sitting in his wheelchair, gripped the armrests, his face furious.

“Last night,” Luca continued, his voice cold as ice, “Vanessa arranged for the kidnapping of a seven-year-old child to ensure her plan went smoothly.”

He turned back to Vanessa.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Vanessa took a step back, her heel catching on the hem of her wedding dress. She stumbled, looking pathetic and small.

“I loved you,” she sobbed, trying one last, desperate play for sympathy.

Luca didn’t blink.

“You love money, Vanessa. And now, you have none.”

He snapped his fingers.

The double doors of the ballroom swung open.

Two men in dark suits walked in. But they weren’t Luca’s men.

They were FBI agents.

Luca’s connections ran deep. He didn’t need to kill Vanessa to ruin her. He just needed to hand over the USB drive full of wire fraud and conspiracy evidence he had found in the silver lighter.

“Vanessa Bellini,” the lead agent said, stepping up to the altar. “You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and wire fraud.”

Vanessa screamed as the agent grabbed her arm, snapping handcuffs over her delicate wrists.

“Luca! You can’t do this to me! I know your secrets!” she thrashed, tearing the silk of her dress.

“Goodbye, Vanessa,” Luca said quietly.

As they dragged her down the aisle, the room was in total shock.

Luca turned to the priest, who was clutching his bible to his chest.

“The wedding is canceled, Father. Please enjoy the buffet.”

Luca walked over to me.

He took the silver tray from my hands and set it on the altar.

Then, in front of two hundred of the most powerful people in Chicago, Luca Moretti did something no one expected.

He took my hand.