Chapter 8 - THE FIRE IN THE BASEMENT
A sickening CRACK echoed through the study.
The crushing weight of Daniel suddenly vanished from my chest. I opened my eyes, gasping for air, clutching the small black detonator desperately to my ribs.
Daniel lay slumped sideways on the Persian rug, entirely unconscious.
Standing over him was Anthony Mercer. The lawyer was pale, sweating profusely, and a massive bloody bandage was wrapped around his forehead. In his hand, he held a heavy marble bookend he had just smashed into the back of Daniel’s skull.
"Are you alright, Emily?" Anthony gasped, dropping the bloody marble block.
"Anthony!" Luca shouted from the chair. "Cut these ties!"
Anthony scrambled behind the desk, pulling a pocket knife to slice through the thick plastic zip-ties binding Luca’s wrists.
I scrambled to my feet, my entire body aching. I looked around the room. Julian was gone.
"Where did he go?" I panicked, my eyes darting toward the open doorway. "Vanessa is gone too!"
Luca rubbed his raw wrists, standing up to his full, imposing height. The mafia boss was back. "He went for the basement. He's going to try to detonate the vault manually. If he can't have the ledger, he’ll settle for taking my bloodline."
Luca bent down and picked up the silver pistol Julian had dropped when Vanessa shot him. He checked the magazine with terrifying, practiced efficiency.
"Stay here, Emily. Give Anthony the detonator," Luca commanded.
"No," I said.
Luca stopped, looking at me.
"Leo is down there," I said, my voice trembling but my jaw set. I wasn't the terrified maid who had been forced to pick up pearls two days ago. I had survived this nightmare. And I wasn't letting that little boy die alone in the dark. "I'm coming with you."
For a fraction of a second, Luca looked like he was going to argue. But he saw the fire in my eyes. He gave a single, sharp nod.
"Stay behind me."
We ran out of the study and sprinted toward the servants' staircase that led down to the sub-basement. The mansion above us was erupting into chaos. The gunshot had panicked the party guests; screams and breaking glass echoed from the ballroom.
We reached the bottom of the stairs. The basement was a labyrinth of wine cellars, boiler rooms, and finally, the heavy steel door of the family vault.
Smoke was already filling the corridor. Julian had set fire to the wooden wine racks to create a barrier. The heat was stifling.
Through the thick, acrid smoke, I saw them.
Julian was dragging Vanessa by her hair toward the vault door. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, his tuxedo soaked in blood, but his left hand held a lighter, striking it furiously near a trail of gasoline he had poured across the floor leading directly beneath the steel door of the vault.
"Julian, stop!" Vanessa shrieked, clawing at his hand. "My son is safe! You have no leverage! It's over!"
"It's never over until a Moretti burns!" Julian roared, kicking Vanessa away. He knelt down, bringing the flame closer to the gasoline trail.
"Julian!"
Luca’s voice boomed through the smoky tunnel like thunder.
Julian looked up.
Luca didn't hesitate. He didn't give a monologue. He didn't offer a warning.
He raised the pistol and fired twice.
The first bullet shattered Julian’s left kneecap. The second hit him square in the chest.
Julian flew backward, slamming against the steel door of the vault. The lighter spun out of his hand, clattering harmlessly onto the damp concrete, inches away from the gasoline.
Julian slid down the metal door, his eyes wide with shock, blood pooling around him. He looked at Luca, his lips moving soundlessly, before his head slumped forward.
It was over.
Luca didn't even look at the body. He sprinted past the burning wine racks, grabbed the heavy iron wheel of the vault door, and strained with all his might to turn it.
"Emily, help me!" Luca grunted.
I threw myself against the wheel, grabbing it with my good left hand, pushing with every ounce of strength I had left.
With a loud screech of metal, the wheel turned. Luca pulled the heavy door open.
Inside the small, dark concrete room, surrounded by blocks of C4 explosives wired to a dead receiver, sat Leo. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his hands covering his ears, tears streaking his dirty face.
"Uncle Luca!" Leo sobbed, jumping up.
Luca dropped to his knees and caught the boy, burying his face in Leo’s hair, letting out a ragged, trembling breath. "I've got you, buddy. I've got you."
I leaned against the cool steel frame of the door, sliding down until I sat on the floor, tears of pure relief finally spilling over my cheeks.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
I looked up. It was Vanessa. Her beautiful gown was ruined, her face smeared with soot and tears. She looked down at me, the cruelty that had defined her entirely burned away.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "For everything, Emily. I am so, so sorry."
Before I could answer, the wail of police sirens pierced the night outside. Red and blue lights flashed through the small basement windows. Anthony Mercer had done his job. He had called the authorities.
Luca stood up, holding Leo in his arms. He looked at Vanessa.
"Anthony arranged a car for you at the back gate," Luca said quietly over the sound of the sirens. "Your son is at the safe house in Boston. Go to him, Vanessa. Never come back to Chicago."
Vanessa let out a sob of pure gratitude. She looked at Luca, then at me, and without another word, she turned and ran up the stairs toward freedom.
Luca walked over to me. He didn't offer me his hand. He knelt down on the concrete floor right beside me, looking at my bruised face and the dirty, blood-stained blue silk dress.
May you like
He reached out and gently took my injured right hand, his thumb softly tracing the swollen knuckles.
"You saved my family, Emily," Luca said, his dark eyes filled with an emotion that was so raw, so intense, it made my breath catch. "You are never going to be invisible in this house again."
