Chapter 4 - THE BOY IN THE CRAYON DRAWING
To Mommy Vanessa, from Leo.
I stared at the crumpled drawing in the dim basement light.
Vanessa wasn't just Michael Grant’s accomplice. She was his ex-wife. She was the mother of his child.
She had spent two years manipulating Luca Moretti, pretending she couldn't have children, playing the perfect, elegant fiancée—all while plotting to steal the Moretti family fortune to fund her real family in the shadows.
Heavy footsteps crunched on the concrete floor just a few aisles over.
Daniel was searching the wine cellar.
“Grace,” he called out, his voice a low, threatening hum. “You’re just a maid. Luca doesn't care about you. If you come out now, I’ll let you leave through the back gate. You can go home to your mother.”
It was a lie.
I knew it was a lie. If they killed Marco, they wouldn't hesitate to kill me.
I scanned the dark basement. My eyes landed on the old dumbwaiter shaft. It was a manual pulley system the staff used to send firewood and heavy linens up to the second floor.
It was small, but I was petite.
I quietly crawled away from the wine crates, keeping my body low to the damp floor.
I slipped inside the wooden dumbwaiter box, pulling my knees tight to my chest. I grabbed the thick rope and began pulling myself upward.
The ancient gears groaned.
Daniel’s flashlight beam instantly swept toward the sound.
“There she is!” he shouted.
I pulled the rope desperately, my hands burning with friction. The box hoisted me up into the narrow, dark shaft just as Daniel reached the bottom. He grabbed the bottom rope, trying to pull me back down.
I braced my feet against the walls of the shaft and kicked the release latch on the dumbwaiter door.
The door swung open onto the first-floor pantry.
I rolled out onto the tiled floor just as Daniel yanked the pulley, sending the empty box crashing back down to the basement.
I scrambled to my feet and ran into the kitchen.
The landline phone was hanging on the wall.
I grabbed it and dialed Luca’s private number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Talk to me,” Luca said, his voice tense.
“Mr. Moretti, it’s Grace!” I gasped, locking the kitchen doors. “You can’t trust Daniel! He’s working with Vanessa and Michael Grant! They killed Marco, and they’re trying to escape the house!”
The line went dead silent.
For two seconds, I thought the call had dropped.
Then Luca spoke, his voice completely devoid of emotion.
“Where are you right now, Grace?”
“In the kitchen. I’ve locked the doors, but they’re coming.”
“Listen to me very carefully,” Luca instructed, the mafia boss taking absolute control. “Do not try to fight them. Go to the walk-in freezer. Lock it from the inside. Turn off the cooling unit so you don't freeze. I am five minutes away.”
“How is Elena?” I asked, tears finally spilling down my face.
“She’s in surgery. The stress caused complications. But I swear to God, Grace, if they touch you, there won't be a place on this earth Daniel can hide from me.”
The kitchen doors rattled violently.
“Grace! Open the door!” Daniel roared from the hallway.
“I’m hiding, sir,” I whispered, and hung up.
I ran into the massive walk-in freezer, pulled the heavy steel door shut, and threw the interior latch. I reached up and hit the emergency power switch, shutting off the loud hum of the refrigeration fans.
The kitchen door outside splintered and crashed open.
I held my breath, shivering in the cold, insulated darkness.
I heard Vanessa’s high-pitched voice.
“Where is she? If she called Luca, we have less than ten minutes!”
“She’s gone,” Daniel lied, sounding panicked. “She must have run out the back. We need to leave. Now.”
“I am not leaving without my money!” Vanessa screamed.
“The trust transfer failed, Vanessa! We have Marco’s ring, we can use it to leverage the money later. But if Luca catches us in this house, we are dead.”
I pressed my ear against the freezing steel door.
I heard them running toward the garage.
Then, the unmistakable sound of tires screeching down the driveway.
They had fled.
I stayed in the freezer for what felt like hours, shaking in the dark, clutching the child’s drawing.
Finally, the steel door handle rattled.
“Grace.”
It was Luca’s voice.
I unlocked the latch and pushed the door open.
Luca stood in the kitchen, surrounded by five heavily armed men. His black suit was wrinkled, his tie was loose, and his eyes were dark with a terrifying, contained fury.
I stumbled out of the freezer, my teeth chattering.
Before I could say anything, Luca stepped forward and wrapped his large, warm coat around my shivering shoulders.
“You’re safe,” he said gently.
“They left,” I stuttered, holding out the drawing. “Vanessa has a son with Michael. That’s why she wanted the money. And Daniel... Daniel took Marco’s ring.”
Luca took the drawing. He stared at it, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.
“Marco isn't dead,” Luca said quietly.
I froze. “What?”
“Michael sent me a message five minutes ago,” Luca said, his eyes darkening. “They have Marco. And they want to trade him.”
“For what?” I asked.
Luca looked down at me, his expression softening with a strange, protective guilt.
“For you, Grace.”
My blood ran completely cold.
“Me? Why me?”
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, familiar object.
He placed it in my trembling hand.
It was a faded, wooden rosary.
May you like
My mother’s rosary. The one she kept tied to her bedpost at the care facility.
“Because Vanessa knows you’re the only witness who heard her confess to the murder attempt,” Luca said softly. “They took your mother, Grace. They want to trade your mother’s life for your silence.”
