Chapter 6 - THE BROKEN GLASS
The single bare bulb swung wildly from the ceiling, casting long, frantic shadows across the concrete floor.
Luca stepped over the splintered remains of the door.
His eyes locked onto Mrs. Gable.
He didn't yell. He didn't hesitate.
Before the housekeeper could even raise her suppressed pistol, Daniel lunged forward and slammed the handle of the sledgehammer directly into her wrist.
The crack of bone echoed in the small room.
Mrs. Gable screamed, dropping the gun as she collapsed to her knees.
Daniel kicked the weapon away and grabbed her by the collar, pinning her against the damp brick wall.
Luca didn't look at her.
He walked straight toward me, holstering his gun.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hands gently gripping my shoulders.
I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face. I looked at his dark hair, his jawline. I tried to see my mother in his features. I tried to see the ghost of the woman who had lost him thirty years ago.
“Nora?” Luca asked, concern flooding his eyes. “Did she hurt the baby?”
“No,” I choked out. “I’m okay.”
I couldn't tell him. Not yet. The truth was too heavy, too dangerous in this chaotic moment.
Luca nodded, relief washing over his face. He turned slowly toward the housekeeper.
“Daniel,” Luca said quietly. “Hold her steady.”
Daniel tightened his grip on Mrs. Gable’s throat.
Luca walked over and picked up the suppressed pistol from the floor. He checked the magazine, then looked down at the woman who had managed his childhood home.
“You’ve been a spy in this house for twenty years,” Luca stated.
Mrs. Gable spat blood onto the concrete. “I’ve been protecting my family’s interests. You’re nothing but a pawn, Luca.”
“Where is Michael?” Luca demanded.
Mrs. Gable laughed, a wet, ugly sound.
“You think Daniel actually locked him in the warehouse? My men intercepted Daniel’s car ten minutes ago. Michael is already gone.”
Luca glanced at Daniel.
Daniel’s face flushed with anger. “Boss, I swear, I left him handcuffed to the radiator. I only came back when I heard the scuffle in the servant’s hall.”
“They have keys,” Luca realized, his jaw tightening. “They’ve had keys to everything for years.”
He looked back at Mrs. Gable.
“Where did Michael go?”
“To finish what he started,” she sneered. “Arthur should have died on those stairs. He won't survive the night.”
My blood ran cold.
“Arthur is in the master suite,” I gasped.
Luca didn't waste a second.
He bolted out the door, taking the concrete stairs two at a time.
I struggled to stand, my pregnant belly making me clumsy, but Daniel caught my arm and helped me up.
“Stay behind me,” Daniel ordered.
We ran down the long corridor, the silence of the mansion suddenly feeling like a ticking bomb.
When we reached the first floor, the grand hallway was eerily quiet.
The door to the master suite was wide open.
Luca was standing in the doorway, perfectly still.
I rushed up behind him, terrified of what I was going to see.
But when I looked inside, Arthur wasn't dead.
He was sitting upright in the bed, holding the heavy brass lamp from the nightstand in his trembling hands.
Lying unconscious on the floor at the foot of the bed, bleeding heavily from a nasty gash on his forehead, was Michael.
A syringe filled with clear liquid lay on the rug near Michael’s outstretched hand.
Arthur looked at Luca, his chest heaving with exertion.
“I… didn't… miss… this time,” Arthur rasped, a fierce, protective fire burning in his cloudy eyes.
Luca let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a lifetime.
He walked over to his father and gently took the heavy brass lamp from his hands.
“You did good, Dad,” Luca whispered.
Daniel entered the room, pulled a pair of zip-ties from his jacket, and secured Michael’s hands and feet.
“He’s out cold, boss,” Daniel said. “That’s a severe concussion.”
“Drag him to the vault,” Luca ordered coldly. “The one with the timed lock. Set it for forty-eight hours. Let him think about his choices in the dark.”
“With pleasure.”
As Daniel dragged Michael out of the room, Luca turned back to his father.
Arthur looked exhausted, the adrenaline fading quickly. But he pointed a shaky finger at the journal resting on the nightstand.
“Read it,” Arthur whispered.
Luca picked up the leather-bound book. He opened it to the page I had been reading earlier.
His eyes scanned Michael’s neat handwriting.
Vanessa thinks she’s so smart. She doesn't know Carlo Bellini has been dead for two years.
Luca frowned. “If Carlo is dead… who has been giving Michael his orders?”
Arthur leaned his head back against the pillows.
“The… sister,” he breathed.
Luca looked confused. “Mrs. Gable? She’s just a housekeeper. She doesn't have the authority to run the Bellini syndicate.”
Arthur shook his head slowly.
“Not… her.”
Arthur looked directly at me.
“The… other… sister.”
I frowned, stepping closer to the bed. “What other sister?”
Arthur closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.
“The one… who… faked her death.”
My heart stopped.
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at me with absolute sorrow.
May you like
“Your… mother,” Arthur breathed.
The journal slipped from Luca’s hand and hit the floor.
