Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
“Dead?” I echoed, the word tasting like ash in my mouth.
I looked at the silver bracelet resting in Luca’s large palm. The name Elara was etched deeply into the metal, the cursive letters worn smooth by time and touch.
“Elara,” Luca breathed, almost to himself. He stood up slowly, the towering presence of the man returning, but heavily burdened. “Elara was Leo’s fiancée. She died in a car accident four years ago. It was the reason Leo lost his mind. The reason he betrayed this family.”
My bruised ribs throbbed, but I pushed myself up to a straighter sitting position.
“Mr. Romano…” I started, my voice trembling.
“Luca,” he corrected, not looking away from the bracelet.
“Luca.” The name felt strange on my tongue, forbidden and heavy. “Elara isn’t dead.”
Luca’s head snapped toward me. His eyes were like shattered glass. “I buried her, Anna. I stood at the funeral and watched the casket go into the ground.”
“Then you buried an empty box.”
The silence that followed was absolute. The kind of silence that precedes a shockwave.
I reached into my other pocket. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely pinch the fabric. I pulled out a small, crumpled photograph. It was slightly water-damaged at the edges, folded down the middle.
“Leo didn’t just give me the bracelet,” I said softly. “He had this tucked inside the clasp.”
Luca stepped forward, snatching the photograph from my fingers.
I watched his eyes scan the image. I had looked at it for hours in the bathroom stall, trying to make sense of it. It was a picture of a woman sitting on a park bench. She looked older, tired, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. But she was undeniably alive.
And she wasn't alone.
Sitting on her lap, clutching a small stuffed bear, was a little girl. Maybe three or four years old. She had Leo’s dark curls and the exact same piercing blue eyes as the man standing in front of me.
Luca dropped into the armchair beside the bed.
He didn’t sit. He collapsed.
“He has a daughter,” Luca whispered.
The betrayal in his voice wasn’t angry. It was heartbroken.
“I think Anthony knew,” I said carefully, terrified to interrupt the storm brewing behind his eyes. “When they grabbed Leo in the basement, Anthony didn’t ask for money. He asked for ‘the coordinates.’”
Luca’s head snapped up.
“Coordinates.”
“Yes. Leo spit in his face. That’s when the man threw me against the railing.”
Luca looked back at the photograph. He traced the edge of the little girl’s face with his thumb. I watched him transition from a grieving brother to a man preparing for a war.
“Anthony has been intercepting Leo’s mail,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm. “He intercepted the letters. He found out Elara survived the crash. He found out about the child. And he’s been using it to blackmail Leo.”
I shivered, despite the warmth of the room. “Blackmail him for what?”
“To sell me out.” Luca stood up. The vulnerability was gone. The Mafia boss was back, rigid and forged in steel. “Anthony needs Leo’s signature to legally transfer the Romano waterfront properties. Leo refused. So Anthony went looking for leverage.”
“The little girl,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach.
“Yes.” Luca walked to the door and pulled it open. “Marco!”
Heavy footsteps rushed down the hall. Marco appeared in the doorway, his suit jacket off, his shoulder holster visible.
“Boss?”
“Bring Anthony up from the basement. Put him in the main study. Bind his hands to the chair.”
Marco didn’t blink. “Yes, sir.”
“And Marco?”
“Sir?”
“If he speaks on the way up, break his jaw.”
Marco nodded and disappeared down the hall.
Luca turned back to me. His eyes softened, just a fraction, as he looked at my pale face and the way I was holding my side.
“You did a brave thing today, Anna,” he said gently. “You protected my family. Now, I am going to protect yours. You stay here. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”
“Wait.” I pushed myself off the bed. Pain flared through my ribs, white-hot and blinding, but I ignored it. “I need to come with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You need me!” I stepped toward him, clutching my side. “Anthony is a liar. He’ll twist this. He’ll tell you Leo is the one who set you up. But I saw them. I saw Anthony’s face. There’s something else.”
Luca frowned. “What else?”
“When I fell,” I breathed, the memory flashing back vividly. “When I was on the floor… Anthony’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and he said, ‘Tell the housekeeper the package is secured.’”
Luca froze.
“The housekeeper?” he repeated.
“Maria,” I whispered.
Maria. The woman who had practically raised Luca and Leo. The woman who had called the doctor for me just an hour ago.
Luca stared at me, his mind racing, putting the pieces together. The cameras. The easy access to the basement. The way Anthony had known exactly when Leo would be in the service elevator.
“Lock the door, Anna,” Luca said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
He stepped out into the hallway.
Before I could close the door, a scream tore through the silence of the estate.
It wasn't a man’s scream.
May you like
It was Maria.
And it was coming from Luca’s private study.
