Chapter 5 - THE POISON IN THE WATER GLASS
Glass shattered across the linoleum floor.
Water and pills spilled everywhere.
Luca didn't hesitate. He lunged out the door, chasing the woman down the dark corridor.
I stayed with my father, holding him as he shook violently.
“You’re safe,” I kept whispering, though my own heart was hammering against my ribs. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
A minute later, Luca returned.
He was breathing hard, his jaw set in a furious line.
“She got into a car waiting out back. No plates,” he said. He looked at the spilled pills on the floor. “Marco is sending a team. We are moving your father to my estate. Tonight. He’s not safe here.”
I didn't argue.
For six months, I thought I was working myself to the bone to pay for natural medical tragedy.
Now I knew someone had deliberately tried to take my father from me.
While we waited for Luca’s men, I packed my father’s few belongings into a small duffel bag.
Clothes. A toothbrush. His reading glasses.
As I lifted his favorite thick wool sweater, something fell out of the pocket.
It landed on the floor with a soft clink.
I bent down to pick it up.
It was an old, tarnished brass key.
Attached to it was a faded yellow tag with the words: ST. JUDE’S ORPHANAGE - LOCKBOX 42.
I showed it to Luca.
His eyes widened. “St. Jude’s? That’s an old Catholic orphanage on the south side. It was shut down three years ago.”
My father groaned, reaching out for the key.
I placed it in his hand.
He squeezed it tightly, looking up at Luca with desperate, pleading eyes.
“Boy,” my father whispered.
“Leo?” Luca asked. “Is Leo at St. Jude’s?”
My father shook his head.
He tapped the key, then pointed to me.
“Go,” he choked out.
“I can't leave you,” I said, tears blurring my vision.
“Marco is here,” Luca said as two massive men in suits stepped into the room. “They will take your father to my secure wing. They have a private doctor waiting. He will be protected like blood.”
I looked at Luca. The mafia boss I had cleaned up after for months was now standing beside me, treating my family like his own.
“We need to see what’s in that lockbox,” Luca said softly. “Before Vanessa finds out we have the key.”
An hour later, Luca and I stood outside a massive, abandoned brick building in the freezing Chicago wind.
St. Jude’s Orphanage.
The gates were chained shut, but Luca had brought bolt cutters.
We slipped inside the dark, dusty halls. The air smelled of old paper and mildew.
Using the flashlight on Luca's phone, we found the basement administrative office.
Along the back wall was a row of metal lockboxes.
Number 42.
My hands shook as I inserted the brass key.
It turned with a rusty click.
I pulled the drawer open.
Inside wasn't money. It wasn't a document.
It was a small, worn child’s coat.
Navy blue with wooden toggle buttons.
Luca let out a choked breath. He reached into the box and lifted the coat.
“I bought this for him,” Luca whispered, tears shining in his dark eyes. “For his third birthday.”
He reached into the tiny pocket of the coat.
He pulled out a heavy, wooden rosary.
But it wasn't just any rosary.
“This was my mother’s,” Luca said, his voice trembling. “She was buried with it.”
Suddenly, the heavy basement door slammed shut behind us, locking from the outside.
May you like
And from the darkness of the stairwell, Vanessa’s voice echoed down.
“You really shouldn’t have come here, Luca.”
