Chapter 7 - THE ROSARY
The black screen reflected our horrified faces.
Luca stared at his own reflection for three agonizing seconds.
Then, he moved with the terrifying, calculated precision of a man who had built an empire in the shadows.
He didn't yell. He didn't break anything.
He simply walked over to the heavy mahogany desk in the corner of the room, unlocked the bottom drawer, and pulled out a massive, black tactical bag.
He threw it onto the sofa and unzipped it.
Inside was an arsenal. Handguns, extra magazines, tactical knives, and a heavy kevlar vest.
"You can't go alone," I said, my voice trembling as I watched him load a magazine with cold efficiency. "Julian has dozens of men. It's a suicide mission."
Luca didn't look up. "If I bring my men, they execute Oliver before I even breach the door. I have to go alone. It’s the only way they believe they have the upper hand."
"Then I'm going with you," I said firmly.
Luca stopped. He finally looked up at me, his dark eyes wide with shock.
"Absolutely not. Emma, you are a maid. You don't know the first thing about a gunfight. You stay here."
"They have my mother, Luca!" I shouted, the desperation finally boiling over. "Vanessa is the only one who knows where she is. If you go in there guns blazing and she gets killed, I lose my mother forever. I am going."
Luca stared at me. He saw the fierce, unyielding terror in my eyes. He saw that I was entirely serious.
He didn't argue. He knew a desperate woman was impossible to stop.
Instead, he reached into the bag and pulled out a small, compact pistol. He checked the safety and held it out to me.
"Do you know how to use this?"
I looked at the black metal. "My father took me shooting a few times before he passed."
"Keep the safety on until you need it," Luca instructed, his voice dropping into a protective, gravelly tone. "You stay behind me. You do exactly what I say. Understood?"
"Understood."
As I took the weapon, I felt a small, hard object in the bottom of my apron pocket.
I reached in and pulled it out.
It was a delicate, silver rosary.
I had found it tucked beneath Isabella Moretti’s pillow weeks ago when I was changing the linens, long before Vanessa locked the room. I had kept it safe, meaning to give it to Luca when the grief wasn't so fresh.
I held it out to him now.
"Your mother's," I said softly. "I think she would want you to have it tonight."
Luca looked at the silver beads. The hardened Mafia boss swallowed hard, taking the rosary from my hand. He didn't put it in his pocket. He wrapped the delicate chain tightly around his left wrist, binding it to his skin.
"Let's go," he whispered.
The drive to the abandoned shipping docks took exactly twenty-two minutes.
The industrial sector was a ghost town at 3:00 AM. Massive, rusted shipping containers loomed like metal mountains against the dark sky, casting long, terrifying shadows across the cracked concrete.
Luca parked his black SUV two blocks away.
We moved on foot, slipping through the damp, freezing fog rolling off the Chicago River.
My heart hammered against my ribs so loudly I thought it would give away our position. My bandaged hand ached from holding the heavy pistol, but I refused to loosen my grip.
We reached the edge of Warehouse 4.
The massive corrugated metal doors were cracked open just enough to let a sliver of harsh yellow light spill out onto the docks.
Luca pressed his back against the rusted metal wall, gesturing for me to do the same.
He peered around the edge of the door.
"Four guards on the ground floor," he whispered, relaying the tactical layout with chilling calm. "Two on the catwalk above. Julian and Vanessa are in the center with Oliver."
"How do we get to Vanessa without them shooting?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the sound of the river.
"We don't," Luca said. "I'm going to walk through the front door."
I stared at him in horror. "Are you insane?"
"I told them I was coming alone," Luca said, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that burned. "I have to draw their attention. While they are focused on me, you are going to slip around to the side entrance. There is a loading ramp that leads directly behind the chairs where Vanessa is sitting."
He reached out and gently touched my cheek. It was a fleeting, impossibly tender gesture in the middle of a warzone.
"You get Oliver out," Luca commanded softly. "You don't engage. You just get him out of the building. I will handle the rest."
Before I could argue, Luca turned the corner and walked straight into the blinding light of the warehouse.
"Hello, Julian!" Luca's voice boomed, echoing off the metal walls.
I heard the immediate, terrifying sound of half a dozen assault rifles cocking simultaneously.
"Well, well," Julian's arrogant voice echoed back. "The King of Chicago. Right on time. I see you didn't bring your army."
"I don't need an army to kill you, Julian," Luca replied coldly.
I didn't wait to hear the rest.
I sprinted silently through the shadows, circling the massive building until I found the rusted side door Luca had described.
It was unlocked.
I slipped inside.
The interior was a massive, echoing cavern. I crouched low, using stacked wooden pallets for cover, slowly making my way toward the center of the room.
I could see them now.
Luca stood completely exposed in the middle of the warehouse, his hands slightly raised, facing down six armed men.
Julian Rossi stood ten feet away, holding a suppressed pistol.
And directly behind Julian, sitting on a metal folding chair, was Vanessa.
She was scrolling on her phone, looking incredibly bored, while Oliver sat tied to a chair beside her, weeping silently.
I crept closer, my heart in my throat. I was only twenty feet away from the back of Vanessa’s chair.
"Hand over the transfer documents, Luca," Julian demanded, extending his free hand.
"Let the boy go first," Luca countered, his eyes locked on Julian.
"That wasn't the deal," Julian sneered.
Vanessa looked up from her phone. "Just shoot him in the knees, Julian. He'll sign whatever you want when he can't stand."
I raised my pistol. My hands were shaking so badly the barrel wobbled. I aimed it directly at the back of Vanessa’s head.
I was ten feet away. I just had to get to Oliver's ropes.
But I stepped on a piece of broken glass.
The crunch echoed like a gunshot in the silent warehouse.
Vanessa spun around in her chair.
She saw me instantly.
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Her bored expression vanished, replaced by sheer panic. But instead of grabbing a gun, she grabbed Oliver by the collar of his pajamas, pulling the terrified boy in front of her as a human shield.
"Kill the maid!" Vanessa screamed.
