Chapter 7 - THE BROKEN HEIRLOOM
The sound of the gunshot was deafening, echoing off the marble floors and crystal glasses. Guests screamed, diving under the linen-draped tables in a chaotic wave of silk and panic.
I threw myself over Matteo, shielding his small body with mine on the cold floor, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting for a pain that didn't come.
When I opened them, Marcus was on the ground.
He was clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his dark suit jacket.
Standing over him, holding a smoking pistol with terrifying calmness, was Nico DeLuca.
"I warned you to stay away from my family, Marcus," Nico said, his voice deadly quiet above the screaming guests. He kicked the gun out of Marcus's reach. "Guards. Take him to the basement. Tie him up. I'll deal with him when the police arrive."
Two massive guards dragged the groaning enforcer out of the room.
Nico didn't lower his gun. He slowly turned it toward Victoria's father, Richard Sterling.
Richard held his hands up, his arrogant face now a mask of sheer terror. "Nico, son, listen to me. I had no idea she took it this far. The bankruptcy, yes, but violence? Never!"
"Get out," Nico commanded.
"Nico, please—"
"Get out of my house!" Nico roared. "Take your daughter and get out before I remember who I used to be!"
Victoria scrambled to her feet, her dress torn, her makeup streaked with black tears. She reached out toward Nico one last time. "I loved you. I did it for us."
Nico didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes locked on her father.
Richard grabbed his daughter's arm and practically dragged her out of the dining room, followed by eighty terrified, whispering guests. Within two minutes, the grand hall was entirely empty, save for the family that remained.
Nico dropped the gun onto the table next to the fifty-thousand-dollar check. He looked exhausted, like a man carrying the weight of the world.
He slowly walked over to where I was kneeling with Matteo.
"Are you hurt?" Nico asked, looking down at us.
"No," I whispered. "We're okay."
Matteo peeked out from behind my shoulder. He looked at Nico, then at the gun on the table, and then back at Nico.
"You saved us," the little boy said softly.
Nico's tough exterior shattered completely. The ruthless mafia boss dropped to his knees on the marble floor, completely uncaring about his expensive tuxedo. He reached out with trembling hands and gently pulled Matteo into his arms.
He buried his face in his son's shoulder and cried.
It was the quiet, broken weeping of a man who had lost everything and miraculously gotten one piece back.
I looked up and saw Elena leaning against a chair, smiling through her tears. Ruth stood beside her, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
For a moment, it felt like it was over.
But then Matteo pulled back from the hug. He reached into his small pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a dirty cloth.
"Aunt Elena said I had to give this to you, too," Matteo said, handing the cloth to Nico. "She said it belongs to Uncle Leo."
Nico wiped his eyes, taking the small bundle. He unwrapped the cloth.
Inside was a heavy gold bracelet.
I gasped. I recognized it. It was the DeLuca family heirloom, given only to the firstborn son. Nico wore one exactly like it.
"Where did you get this, Elena?" Nico asked, his voice shaking again. "Leo was wearing this the night he disappeared."
Elena's smile faded. She looked down at the floor, suddenly refusing to meet Nico's eyes.
"Elena?" Nico prompted.
"I didn't give that to him," Elena whispered, her face pale.
"What?"
"I didn't give Matteo the bracelet," Elena repeated, her voice trembling. "I've never seen it before in my life."
Nico looked sharply at his son. "Matteo. Who gave this to you?"
The little boy looked confused. "The nice lady did. Before we came here."
"What nice lady?" Nico asked.
May you like
Matteo pointed directly at me.
"Her," Matteo said innocently. "Hannah's mom."
