Chapter 5 - THE WAREHOUSE TRAP
I stared at the worn wooden beads in my palm.
The air in the kitchen seemed to vanish.
My mother. She was fragile, confused, entirely dependent on her nurses. The thought of Daniel and Michael dragging her out into the cold night made my chest cave in.
“No,” I choked out, my knees buckling.
Luca caught me by the arms before I hit the floor.
“Look at me, Grace,” he commanded, his voice a steady, grounding anchor in the storm of my panic. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes up to meet his.
“I am not going to let them hurt her,” Luca said, his dark eyes burning with absolute certainty. “You are a part of my household. Under my protection. Anyone who touches your family signs their own death warrant. Do you understand?”
I nodded, swallowing the sob in my throat.
“What do they want us to do?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Michael wants you to bring the forged trust documents to the old shipyard on Pier 4 in one hour,” Luca explained, turning to his men. “He said if I come with you, or if I send my men, he’ll kill Marco and your mother.”
“Then I have to go alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Luca growled, the mafia boss snapping back to the surface. “You are not walking into a slaughterhouse alone.”
“Mr. Moretti, if you go, they’ll kill her!” I cried, grabbing the lapels of his ruined suit. “Please!”
Luca looked down at my hands clutching his jacket. His expression softened in a way I had never seen before.
He gently covered my hands with his.
“I won’t go in with you,” Luca promised softly. “But I will be right behind you. I’m going to wire you. You get them talking. You confirm my brother-in-law and your mother are alive. And the second you give the signal, I will tear that warehouse to the ground.”
Forty-five minutes later, I was stepping out of a black SUV into the freezing, foggy air of Pier 4.
The shipyard was a desolate graveyard of rusted shipping containers and abandoned warehouses.
I clutched a manila folder tight to my chest. Inside were the forged trust documents. Hidden beneath my uniform collar was a microscopic microphone.
“Testing,” I whispered into the collar.
“I hear you, Grace,” Luca’s voice crackled through the tiny earpiece in my right ear. “My snipers are in position. Walk to warehouse seven. Keep your head up. You are brave. You can do this.”
His words gave me a surge of strength.
I walked past the rusted gates and approached the massive, rolling metal doors of Warehouse Seven.
The door was slightly ajar.
I slipped inside.
The warehouse was cavernous and dimly lit by a single halogen work light dangling from the ceiling.
Standing in the center of the concrete floor was Vanessa, shivering in her torn red gown, and a tall, sharp-featured man holding a handgun.
Michael Grant.
And tied to two metal chairs near the back wall were Marco, beaten and bloody, and my mother, looking small and terrified in her hospital gown.
“Mom!” I screamed, taking a step forward.
Michael raised his gun, pointing it directly at my chest.
“Stop right there, Grace,” Michael ordered. His voice was smooth, terrifyingly calm. “Toss the folder on the ground and kick it over.”
“Let them go first,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Vanessa sneered, stepping out from behind Michael. “You have no leverage, you stupid girl.”
“I have the documents,” I shot back. “Without these, you can’t touch a dime of the Moretti trust for your son.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Throw the folder.”
“Grace,” Luca’s voice murmured in my ear. “Keep him talking. I need to know where Daniel is.”
I took a deep breath.
“Where is Daniel?” I asked loudly. “I know he was working with you.”
Michael chuckled darkly. “Daniel is securing the perimeter. Making sure your handsome boss didn't follow you.”
“I’m alone,” I lied.
“We’ll see about that.” Michael gestured to Vanessa. “Check the folder.”
I tossed the manila envelope onto the concrete. Vanessa scrambled forward, picking it up and checking the papers.
“It’s all here,” she told Michael, a greedy smile spreading across her face.
“Good,” Michael said. He aimed the gun directly at Marco’s head. “Now we tie up loose ends.”
My heart stopped.
“No!” I screamed.
“Grace, drop!” Luca roared in my ear.
I threw myself to the dirty concrete floor just as the massive skylights above the warehouse shattered inward.
Dozens of armed men rappelled down from the roof on tactical ropes, smashing through the glass in a rain of shards.
At the exact same moment, the metal warehouse doors were blown off their hinges by an armored SUV.
Luca Moretti stepped out of the smoke, holding a heavy assault rifle.
Michael panicked. He grabbed Vanessa by the hair, using her as a human shield, and fired wildly into the dark.
“Don't shoot!” Vanessa shrieked, struggling against her ex-husband. “Michael, let me go!”
“Shut up!” Michael yelled, backing toward the rear exit.
Luca didn't flinch. He raised his weapon and fired a single, deafening shot.
The bullet hit Michael’s shoulder perfectly, dropping him to the ground without touching Vanessa.
Vanessa screamed and fell to her knees, immediately putting her hands in the air.
Luca’s men swarmed the building. They kicked the gun away from Michael, pinning him to the floor.
I scrambled to my feet and ran to my mother.
I tore the ropes off her wrists, pulling her into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Claire?” my mother mumbled, her dementia making her confused. “Why is it so loud?”
“It’s Grace, Mom. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Luca walked past Michael and Vanessa, ignoring their pleading. He walked straight to Marco, cutting his brother-in-law free.
Marco coughed up blood, looking up at Luca. “Elena... the baby...”
“She’s in surgery,” Luca said, hauling Marco to his feet. “You’re going to be a father, brother.”
Suddenly, Daniel emerged from the shadows near the back door.
He raised a gun, pointing it squarely at Luca’s back.
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“Nobody moves!” Daniel roared.
Before I could scream a warning, Daniel pulled the trigger.
