Chapter 8 - THE ROSARY IN THE RAIN
The Bellini estate was heavily guarded.
I parked the SUV a mile down the road, hidden in the trees.
“Stay here,” I told Teresa. “Lock the doors.”
I took the heavy flashlight from the glove compartment and slipped out into the rain.
I snuck through the woods, approaching the back gates of the compound. The rain masked my footsteps.
As I peered through the iron bars, I saw Luca.
He was kneeling in the mud of the courtyard, his hands zip-tied behind his back.
Carlo Bellini stood over him, holding an umbrella.
“You’re a stubborn boy, Luca,” Carlo sneered. “Just like your father. He refused to sign the papers, too. Even when I showed him the gun.”
Luca looked up, blood dripping from his nose.
“Where is she, Carlo?”
Carlo smiled. “Mia is safe. She thinks I’m her loving grandfather. She doesn't even know you exist.”
“Let her go,” Luca growled. “You have me. Take the company. Just give her to my mother.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Carlo said. He pulled a gun from his coat. “No loose ends.”
I couldn't just watch him die.
I looked around desperately. I saw the estate’s main power breaker box attached to the brick wall outside the gate.
I ran to it, raised the heavy metal flashlight, and smashed it directly into the electrical panel.
Sparks exploded into the rain.
The entire Bellini estate plunged into absolute darkness.
Men shouted in confusion.
I heard a grunt, a struggle, and a gunshot fired into the air.
“Luca!” I screamed, running toward the gate.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadows.
It was Luca.
He had used the darkness to break the zip-ties and disarm a guard.
“Claire! What are you doing here?” he hissed.
“Saving your life!”
He looked at me, completely stunned, then grabbed my hand. “Run.”
We sprinted through the woods, back toward the SUV.
When we reached the car, Luca threw open the door.
Teresa was safe. Walter wagged his tail.
But Luca didn't get in.
He looked back toward the Bellini estate.
“I’m not leaving without her,” he said.
Before I could argue, a small, terrifying voice came from the backseat.
“Are you my dad?”
Luca froze.
He slowly turned his head.
Sitting in the very back of the SUV, huddled beneath Walter’s blue blanket, was a seven-year-old girl with dark curls.
Luca fell to his knees in the mud.
“Mia?”
The little girl nodded timidly. “The nice lady brought me.”
I looked in shock.
Vanessa stood at the edge of the trees, soaked in rain, holding a wooden rosary.
“My father crossed a line,” Vanessa whispered, her voice breaking. “I wanted the money, Luca. But I won't let him kill a child. She was in the guest house. I brought her to your car.”
Vanessa threw the wooden rosary into the mud.
“That was Antonio’s. Tell Teresa I’m sorry.”
She turned and disappeared into the woods.
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Luca didn't care about Vanessa.
He reached into the car and pulled his daughter into his arms for the very first time.
