Chapter 3 - THE BLUE TRAIN TICKET
The word hung in the air like a physical weight.
Nephew.
Luca’s nephew, Leo, was eight years old. His father—Luca’s older brother—had been killed five years ago. Since then, Luca had protected the boy like his own son. Leo lived in the west wing of the mansion, guarded around the clock.
“Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice dangerously low. “Why do you have a ticket for Leo?”
Vanessa backed against the wall. The haughty, untouchable mafia princess was gone, replaced by a terrified woman caught in a trap.
“It’s not what you think,” she stammered. “I was… I was protecting him!”
“By paying my uncle with my grandmother’s ring? To take Leo out of the country?” Luca took a step closer, holding the blue ticket like a weapon. “My uncle hasn't been allowed in this house since he tried to sell our shipping routes to the Russians. You gave him my nephew?”
“He said he would keep him safe!” Vanessa cried.
“Safe from what?”
Vanessa looked at the men around the table. Then she looked at me and Daniel.
“Make them leave,” she whispered.
“No,” Luca said. “They stay. You talk.”
Vanessa’s hands shook. “Your uncle came to me three days ago. He said there was a hit on Leo. Ordered by the Commission. Because Leo is the true heir. He said if I didn't pay him to smuggle Leo to Canada tonight, the boy would be dead by morning.”
She pointed a trembling finger at the shattered fake diamond on the table.
“I didn't have the cash! He demanded the ring! I did it for you, Luca!”
It was a brilliant lie.
It sounded desperate. It sounded like love.
For a second, I saw a flicker of doubt in Luca’s eyes. He loved that boy more than anything. If Vanessa really believed she was saving Leo’s life…
Daniel tapped my arm.
He pointed at Vanessa’s feet. Then he signed three words.
Look at her shoes.
I frowned, looking down.
Vanessa was wearing red satin heels. But the heel of her right shoe was scuffed, and stuck to the side of the delicate fabric was a thick smear of dark, gray grease.
Boiler grease, my mind registered.
I knew that grease. I scrubbed the floors. The only place in the entire mansion with that specific, thick gray sludge was the basement utility room.
A room guests were never allowed to enter.
A room my brother, Mark, had been working in all week.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly.
Luca didn't take his eyes off Vanessa. “What is it, Anna?”
“Miss Bellini didn't meet your uncle in the hallway,” I said. “She met him in the basement.”
Vanessa’s head snapped toward me. “You lying little—”
“Look at her right shoe,” I said.
Luca looked down. He recognized the grease immediately. His jaw tightened.
“Why were you in the basement, Vanessa?”
“I wasn't! The maid is making things up to protect her deaf friend!”
I looked at Daniel. He signed quickly.
She went downstairs carrying a heavy coat. She came back up empty-handed.
“She took a coat downstairs,” I translated.
Luca turned to the guard he had almost fired minutes ago. “Lock the doors. Nobody leaves this dining room.”
He walked past Vanessa, striding out into the grand hallway. I followed him, my heart hammering in my chest.
We went through the kitchen, down the narrow concrete steps into the basement. The air smelled of damp earth and old oil.
Luca walked straight to the boiler room.
The heavy metal door was slightly ajar.
He pushed it open.
The room was dimly lit. My brother’s tools were neatly stacked on a workbench.
But shoved into the corner, behind the massive water heater, was a child’s winter coat.
A blue coat. Leo’s coat.
Luca picked it up. His hands trembled as he felt the weight of it.
He reached into the pocket.
He pulled out a heavy, forged iron padlock. And a chain.
My breath caught in my throat.
“She wasn't smuggling him to Canada,” Luca whispered, staring at the chain. “The ticket was a decoy. If I looked for Leo, I’d look for my uncle on a train to Montreal.”
He looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with absolute horror.
“She was going to lock him down here. And make him disappear.”
Before I could speak, a muffled sound echoed from the far wall.
A rhythmic, metallic tapping.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
It was coming from the old, decommissioned coal chute.
Luca dropped the coat and ran to the iron door of the chute. It was sealed shut with a heavy deadbolt. He slammed his fist against it.
“Leo?!” Luca roared.
The tapping stopped. Then, a tiny, terrified voice drifted through the thick metal.
“Uncle Luca?”
Luca threw the deadbolt back and wrenched the iron door open.
Little Leo tumbled out, covered in soot and tears. Luca caught him, pulling the boy into a crushing embrace, burying his face in the child’s dark hair.
I stood back, wiping tears from my own eyes.
But as Leo clung to his uncle, he looked over Luca’s shoulder at me.
He reached into his pocket with a trembling, soot-stained hand.
“The lady dropped this,” Leo whispered, holding something out to me. “When she pushed me in the dark.”
I took it from the little boy’s fingers.
It was a heavy, silver pocket watch.
But it didn't belong to Vanessa. And it didn't belong to Luca’s uncle.
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I recognized the dents on the casing. I recognized the braided leather chain.
It was my brother’s watch.
