Chapter 5 - THE CHILD’S DRAWING
The kitchen went dead silent, the humming of the massive commercial refrigerators suddenly sounding deafening.
Luca took the crumpled construction paper from Lily’s trembling hand. He stared at the crayon drawing of the burning car, his breath catching in his throat.
“Lily,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a fragile whisper. “Baby, why didn't you ever tell me you saw this?”
Lily wiped her eyes with the oversized sleeve of her uniform. “Because the monster said if I told you, you would get mad and send me away. And Vanessa said I was crazy and making things up.”
I felt a surge of pure, protective rage toward Vanessa Bellini. For four years, she had been gaslighting a grieving child to protect a terrible secret.
“You’re not crazy, sweetheart,” I said fiercely, kneeling down so I was eye-level with her. “You are the bravest girl I know.”
Luca continued to stare at the drawing. His thumb traced the rough crayon lines of the man standing next to the fire. The man was depicted wearing a distinctive, knee-length winter coat with a heavy fur collar, holding a bat.
Answer one: Elena hadn't abandoned Luca because she stopped loving him. She had been forced out by someone within the syndicate who threatened Lily’s life.
“I know this coat,” Luca whispered, the color draining from his face once again.
A reversal struck the room, changing the villain of the story entirely. Vanessa was a manipulator, a blackmailer, and a cruel opportunist—but she wasn't the monster who drove Elena away. She had simply capitalized on the tragedy.
“Mr. Moretti?” I asked cautiously. “Who is it?”
Open two: Who had enough power to threaten the wife of a mafia boss and get away with it? And why did they want Elena gone in the first place?
“It’s Marco,” Luca said, his voice cracking with a mixture of profound betrayal and blinding rage. “My underboss. My best friend.”
My heart plummeted. Marco was a fixture in the mansion. He ate dinner at this very table every Sunday. He brought Lily presents on her birthday. He was the man currently standing guard outside the dining room doors, supposedly protecting the estate.
“Marco orchestrated the car crash to make it look like a rival family hit,” Luca continued, his mind putting the pieces together at lightning speed. “He wanted to go to war with the Rossi family to take over the waterfront ports. Elena was the only one telling me not to do it. She was the only voice of reason I listened to.”
Luca crushed the drawing in his fist.
“He threatened my wife and child so he could start a mob war.”
Suddenly, the heavy swinging doors of the kitchen were pushed open.
Standing in the doorway was Marco.
He was wearing a tailored black suit, his hand resting casually inside his jacket where I knew he kept his weapon. His eyes scanned the kitchen, landing on Luca, then me, and finally on Lily.
“Everything alright in here, Boss?” Marco asked, his voice smooth and untroubled. “Vanessa is making a lot of noise in the basement. The guests are getting restless.”
Luca didn't move. He didn't reach for a weapon. He stood up slowly, positioning his body entirely between Marco and Lily.
“Everything is fine, Marco,” Luca lied, his voice as smooth as glass. “Take the guests to the drawing room. Have the staff pour the expensive scotch. I need to deal with a family matter.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly, lingering on the crushed paper in Luca’s hand.
“You sure, Luca? You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” Luca said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Go.”
Marco hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. “You got it, Boss.”
The doors swung shut behind him.
Luca immediately grabbed my arm, his grip bruisingly tight.
“Claire, listen to me,” he said rapidly, his eyes burning with urgency. “Marco knows something is wrong. He’s going to lock down the estate in two minutes. You cannot take the SUV. He’ll check the gates.”
“Then how do I get Lily out of here?” I asked, panic finally beginning to edge into my voice.
“The service tunnels,” Luca said, looking at the heavy metal door at the back of the pantry that led to the old Prohibition-era escape routes. “Take her through the tunnels. They let out three blocks away at the old abandoned train station. But you need the keys to the grate.”
“Where are the keys?”
“In the attic,” Luca said, glancing nervously toward the doors. “In the pocket of Elena’s old winter coat. I packed all her things away the week she died. The keys are in there.”
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He looked down at Lily, kissing her forehead fiercely. “Go with Claire, baby. I have to stay here and distract Marco. I will come find you. I promise.”
I grabbed Lily’s hand, and we sprinted toward the back stairs. We had to get to the attic, find the winter coat, and get into the tunnels before Marco realized the engagement dinner had just turned into a war zone.
