Chapter 5 - THE TRUTH IN THE SUITCASE
"Drop it, Vanessa!" Luca shouted, leveling his gun directly at her chest.
Vanessa turned around.
Her expensive engagement gown was soaked with rain and stained with mud.
Her mascara was running down her face in dark streaks.
She looked absolutely unhinged.
"I told him not to move!" she screamed, her hand trembling as she pointed the gun at Luca. "I told him to give her to me!"
"Where is she?" Luca demanded, stepping in front of Mrs. Carter and me, shielding us with his body.
"She's dead, Luca!" Vanessa laughed, a hysterical, broken sound. "My father sent his men to intercept Daniel! They took Eleanor. She's gone!"
Daniel let out a wet, agonizing cough from the floor.
He rolled onto his side, pressing a bloody hand to his stomach.
"She's lying, boss," Daniel choked out.
Luca didn't take his eyes off Vanessa.
"Daniel, stay down."
"I hid her, boss," Daniel gasped, spitting blood onto the marble. "The crypt... below the altar. I locked it from the outside. They couldn't get to her."
Vanessa screamed in frustration and aimed her gun at Daniel's head.
Before she could pull the trigger, a gunshot deafened the room.
It wasn't Luca.
It was Daniel.
He had drawn his backup piece from his ankle holster.
The bullet struck Vanessa in the shoulder.
She cried out, dropping her weapon, and collapsed onto the stone floor, clutching her bleeding arm.
Luca immediately kicked her gun away and rushed to Daniel's side.
He ripped off his suit jacket and pressed it hard against the bleeding wound in Daniel's stomach.
"Stay with me, brother," Luca ordered, his voice cracking. "Olivia, call an ambulance. Now!"
I fumbled for my phone and dialed 911, screaming our location to the operator.
Mrs. Carter knelt beside Daniel, taking his bloody face in her hands.
"Oh, my brave boy," she wept, kissing his forehead. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Daniel offered a weak, pain-filled smile.
"Giovanni made me swear," Daniel whispered to Luca. "Before he died. He knew Salvatore would come for you one day. He told me to watch the shadows."
Luca stared at him, the betrayal washing away into profound gratitude.
"Giovanni knew she was alive?"
"He always knew," Daniel coughed. "He hid her to protect her from Salvatore. The photograph... he left it in my care. To prove to you, when the time came, that he never stopped loving your mother."
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
Luca looked toward the heavy iron doors built into the stone floor behind the altar.
The crypt.
He stood up, his hands covered in Daniel's blood, and walked toward the iron ring.
With a massive heave, he pulled the heavy doors open.
A narrow stone staircase led down into the darkness.
"Mother?" Luca called out, his voice breaking on the word for the first time in his life.
A soft, weak voice echoed from the dark.
"Luca?"
Slowly, a woman emerged from the shadows.
She was frail, her hair thin and silver, wearing a standard hospital gown over a pair of sweatpants.
But her eyes—dark, intense, and deeply familiar—mirrored Luca's perfectly.
Eleanor Hayes looked at the tall, powerful mafia boss standing before her.
She reached up, her trembling fingers gently touching his jaw.
"My beautiful boy," she wept. "You have his eyes."
Luca broke.
The man who terrified Chicago fell to his knees and buried his face in his mother's stomach, sobbing like a child.
Eleanor stroked his dark hair, tears streaming down her own face.
It was the most beautiful, heartbreaking thing I had ever seen.
But the moment was shattered by a cruel laugh from the floor.
Vanessa was sitting up, clutching her bleeding shoulder.
"Enjoy the reunion," she spat. "Because my father is going to burn this city to the ground to finish what he started."
I walked over to the blue suitcase that had been knocked over in the struggle.
As I bent down to pick it up, a hidden lining inside the lid tore open.
Several old, yellowed papers spilled out.
I picked one up.
It was a child's drawing.
A crude crayon picture of a little girl behind bars, crying.
Written at the top, in childish handwriting, were the words: To my kidnapper, Salvatore.
I froze.
I turned the paper over.
There was a birth certificate taped to the back.
Not Vanessa Bellini.
Chloe Jenkins. Reported missing, 1994.
I looked at Vanessa.
May you like
"You're not his daughter," I whispered.
Vanessa went completely still.
