Chapter 7 - THE ROSARY
“Let him go, Victor!” Matteo roared, pulling a sleek black handgun from his shoulder holster faster than my eyes could track.
I froze on the stairs, terrified.
Victor Ricci, a heavyset man in a tailored suit, sneered. His six guards raised their weapons, pointing them directly at Matteo.
“You embarrassed my daughter, Matteo,” Victor spat. “You broke an alliance. In our world, that requires payment.”
“I told you over the phone, the alliance is over. You held my nephew hostage!”
“Legally, he’s still my ward,” Victor countered smoothly. “Where is the boy?”
“You’ll die before you see him again,” Matteo growled.
Victor tightened his grip on George’s neck. The elderly groundskeeper gasped for air, his face turning purple.
“Give me the boy, Matteo, or the old man dies right here on your imported marble.”
My blood ran cold.
Then, a tiny voice echoed from the top of the stairs.
“Stop!”
We all looked up.
Leo was standing at the railing, clutching Bruno’s collar. The massive dog stood protectively at the boy's side, growling deeply.
“Don’t hurt Mr. George,” Leo cried, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll go back. I’ll be good.”
“No, Leo!” I shouted, running up the steps to grab him.
But Victor laughed. “See? The boy knows his place.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an object. He tossed it onto the floor at Matteo’s feet.
It was a heavy, gold rosary.
Matteo looked down at it, and the color instantly drained from his face.
“Recognize it?” Victor smiled cruelly. “It belonged to your mother. The night she died, she wasn’t alone in her bedroom, Matteo. My men were there.”
The silence in the room was deafening.
Matteo’s mother had died of a supposed heart attack in her sleep four years ago.
“You killed her,” Matteo whispered, his voice shaking with a rage so profound it made the air heavy.
“She was going to block the merger between our families,” Victor said simply. “She had to go. Just like you have to go, if you don’t hand over the boy.”
Victor nodded to his men. The clicks of their guns echoed in the grand foyer.
“Shoot him,” Victor ordered.
I screamed and threw myself over Leo.
But the shots didn’t come from Victor’s men.
They came from outside.
Glass shattered. The front doors blew open. A dozen of Matteo’s armed guards, led by Marcus, poured into the foyer, flanking Victor’s men in seconds.
Matteo hadn’t just been standing there. When he pulled his gun, he had silently triggered the panic button on his watch.
Victor’s men dropped their weapons instantly, outgunned and surrounded.
Marcus slammed his rifle butt into Victor’s stomach. The older man dropped George and fell to his knees, gasping for air.
Matteo walked slowly down the stairs. He didn’t look like a businessman anymore. He looked like the ruthless boss the city feared.
He picked up his mother’s gold rosary, wrapping it tightly around his fist.
Then he looked at Victor.
“Marcus,” Matteo said coldly. “Take them all to the warehouse. We’re going to have a very long conversation about my mother.”
“No! Matteo, wait!” Victor begged as he was dragged away.
The heavy doors slammed shut. The house was finally safe.
George was coughing on the floor. I ran down and helped him sit up. “Are you okay, Mr. Harris?”
“I’m fine, Emily. Just... lost my breath,” the old man wheezed, patting my hand.
Matteo stood in the center of the foyer, looking at his mother’s rosary. His chest heaved. The weight of the revelation was crushing him.
I walked over and gently touched his arm.
He turned, dropping his head onto my shoulder, letting out a ragged breath. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight.
“She’s at peace now,” I whispered. “She knows you saved him.”
Matteo lifted his head. He looked at me, then past me, up the stairs.
Leo was sitting there with Bruno.
“Emily,” Matteo said softly. “Will you do something for me?”
May you like
“Anything.”
He took my hand. “Will you stay? Not as a maid. But as his family. As mine.”
