Chapter 7 - THE ACCOUNTANT'S SECRET
I stared at the leather ledger resting on my mother’s hospital blanket.
The words echoed in my head, a jarring, sickening distortion of my entire reality.
Carlo Bellini’s accountant. Stealing. Broke her spine.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, stepping back as if the ledger were a live grenade. “My mother was a school teacher. She never worked for the syndicate.”
Vanessa laughed, a dry, humorless sound.
“Read the book, Claire. Your precious, innocent mother washed millions for our family. She was brilliant. But she got greedy. My father found out she was funneling cash into offshore accounts, so he sent Marco to teach her a lesson.”
My blood ran ice cold. I looked at Luca.
Luca’s face was unreadable, his dark eyes scanning the room, keeping his gun leveled at Vanessa.
“Marco did this?” Luca asked quietly.
“Yes,” Vanessa smiled. “Marco has been working for my father for years. We engineered your wife’s death, we engineered your mother-in-law’s accident, and we engineered this marriage. It was all a hostile takeover, Luca.”
She stood up, smoothing her red silk dress.
“Now, hand over the evidence. Or my father’s men will walk into this room and kill all three of you.”
Luca didn't lower his gun.
“You think your father is waiting outside, Vanessa?” Luca asked, a dark, predatory smile touching his lips.
Vanessa frowned. “I know he is.”
“Carlo Bellini is a cautious man,” Luca said, stepping closer to her. “He wouldn't risk sending his soldiers into a hospital full of federal cameras just to cover your tracks. You went rogue tonight, Vanessa. You acted out of jealousy because I chose Isabella over you.”
Vanessa’s confidence faltered. She glanced nervously toward the hallway.
“He’s coming,” she insisted, her voice trembling.
“No, he isn't,” Luca replied.
He reached into his pocket and tossed a heavy gold ring onto the floor. It clattered against the linoleum.
Vanessa stared at the ring. It bore the Bellini family crest.
“My men intercepted your father’s convoy twenty minutes ago,” Luca said coldly. “Carlo is currently sitting in the trunk of my car in the parking garage.”
Vanessa’s face drained of all color.
She lunged for the syringe on the bedside table.
I didn't think. I reacted.
I grabbed the heavy metal IV stand and swung it as hard as I could. The heavy base slammed into Vanessa’s shoulder, knocking her to the floor. The syringe went flying, shattering against the wall.
Vanessa screamed in pain, clutching her arm.
Luca stepped over her, placing his boot firmly on her chest, pinning her down.
“You’re done, Vanessa,” Luca whispered.
He pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Send the police to room 412,” Luca ordered. “Tell them we have the woman who poisoned Caroline Moretti, and we have the physical evidence.”
He hung up and looked at me.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I looked down at my mother, who was still sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the nightmare unfolding around her.
I picked up the ledger from the bed.
“If my mother stole money from them,” I choked out, “why did they let her live?”
Luca looked at the ledger.
“Because they never found the money, Claire,” he said softly. “They kept her alive hoping she would wake up and tell them where it was.”
Suddenly, the heavy door to the hospital room slammed shut.
The lock clicked loudly.
Luca spun around, raising his gun.
But it wasn't the police. And it wasn't Carlo’s men.
Standing in the shadows of the doorway, holding a suppressed submachine gun aimed directly at us, was Marco Moretti.
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His face was bruised from where Luca had hit him, his eyes filled with a manic, desperate hatred.
“Put the gun down, big brother,” Marco sneered, blood dripping from his lip. “Or I kill the maid.”
