Chapter 5 - The Ghost in the Frame
The foyer was dead silent, save for Vanessa’s pathetic, ragged sobbing on the floor.
I stared at the photograph in my trembling hand. The woman in the picture was young, with dark hair and a bright, tragic smile. She was holding a newborn baby wrapped in a pink blanket.
The true heir. Keep her hidden.
Daniel leaned over my shoulder, his massive frame casting a shadow over the faded photograph. "Who is she?" he asked, his voice tight with confusion. "Enzo only had one son. Luca."
"I don't know," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "But if this is what was hidden inside the sacred family heirloom... it’s not about money. It’s about blood."
I looked at Vanessa, who was staring at the photo with a mix of shock and desperate realization.
"You didn't know," I realized, pointing the photo at her. "You and Arthur thought the necklace held bank codes. You thought you were stealing two hundred million dollars."
Vanessa wiped her tear-streaked face, her arrogance entirely shattered. "My father swore Enzo hid the offshore accounts in the emerald! He spent ten years looking for it!"
"He was wrong," Daniel said coldly. "Enzo didn't hide money. He hid a child."
Daniel grabbed Camilla’s arm, hauling her away from the wall. "Lock them both in the wine cellar. Reinforce the door. I’m not losing them again."
Two remaining estate guards rushed forward, dragging Vanessa and Camilla away. Their screams faded down the corridor, leaving me and Daniel alone in the grand foyer.
"We have a massive problem, Hannah," Daniel said, running a heavy hand over his shaved head. "If Leo drove into that FBI ambush in Gary with the fake necklace, the Feds aren't going to find bank codes. They’re going to find a cheap piece of glass. Which means they won't have the evidence to hold Luca on financial terrorism charges."
"That’s a good thing, isn't it?" I asked, confused.
"No," Daniel grimaced. "Because if the FBI realizes they’ve been played, they won't arrest Luca. They’ll realize it's a syndicate trap. And the rival families waiting in the shadows will use the chaos to open fire on everyone. Luca is walking into a warzone, and he thinks he’s just hunting a thief."
Panic seized my chest. "We have to warn him."
"I told you, the signal is jammed," Daniel said in frustration.
I looked down at the photograph in my hand. The woman. The baby.
I flipped the photo over again. I stared at the woman’s face, tracing the curve of her jaw, the shape of her eyes.
A cold, terrifying chill ran down my spine.
I knew this face.
I had seen this face every single day for the last ten months, staring back at me from the mirror in the servant’s bathroom.
"Daniel," I whispered, the air completely leaving my lungs.
"What?"
"The woman in the photo," I choked out, handing it to him. "It’s my mother."
Daniel froze. He looked at the photo, then looked up at me. His eyes widened in absolute shock as he recognized the uncanny resemblance.
"Your mother?" Daniel breathed.
"She died when I was five," I said, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "I was raised in foster care. I never knew my father."
Daniel stared at the handwriting on the back of the photo. The true heir.
"Enzo Moretti is your father," Daniel realized, taking a slow step backward. "You aren't a maid, Hannah. You’re Luca’s half-sister."
The marble floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I grabbed the edge of a mahogany side table to keep from collapsing.
I was a Moretti. I had spent ten months scrubbing floors in a mansion that rightfully belonged half to me. I had served dinner to my own brother.
"Why would Enzo hide you?" Daniel muttered, his tactical mind racing to put the pieces together. "Why put your photo in the most sacred family heirloom?"
"Because I wasn't just a secret," I said, a terrifying clarity washing over me. "I was an insurance policy."
Daniel frowned. "Against who?"
"Against Arthur," I realized. "Arthur has been trying to take over the family for years. Enzo knew Arthur would challenge Luca for the throne. But mafia law dictates that the oldest living heir inherits the syndicate."
I looked at Daniel, my heart pounding. "I’m older than Luca. I’m twenty-eight. Luca is twenty-seven."
Daniel’s face drained of color. "If the commission finds out you exist, Luca loses everything. You become the head of the Moretti family."
The weight of the revelation was crushing. If I showed this photo to the commission, I could strip Luca of his power. I could take the mansion, the ports, the entire empire.
But I didn't want a mafia empire. I just wanted my eighty-six dollars so I could pay my rent.
"We have to get to Gary," I said fiercely, shoving the photograph into my apron pocket. "If Arthur finds out who I am, he’ll kill me. And if Luca dies in that ambush tonight, Arthur takes the throne anyway."
"I can't risk the estate guards," Daniel said, checking his rifle. "If I pull them, the rival families will raid this house in minutes. I have to stay here."
"Then I’ll go alone," I said, grabbing the keys to one of the armored SUVs from the hall table.
"You can't drive, Hannah," Daniel argued, pointing at my wrapped ankle. "You can barely walk."
"I can drive an automatic," I said stubbornly, limping toward the front doors. "And I know the back roads to Gary. I grew up in the foster homes out there. I can bypass the main highway where the Feds are waiting."
Daniel stared at me, seeing the absolute, unyielding determination in my eyes. The blood of Enzo Moretti was finally showing.
"Take this," Daniel said, pulling a heavy, black handgun from his waistband and handing it to me. "The safety is off. Point and pull."
I took the gun. It was heavy, cold, and terrifying. But I didn't hesitate. I shoved it into my apron pocket next to the photograph.
"Save him, Hannah," Daniel said quietly.
I nodded, pushing through the heavy front doors into the dark Chicago night.
I climbed into the driver’s seat of the massive armored SUV. My left ankle screamed in agony as I pulled my leg inside, but I ignored it. I slammed the door shut, hit the ignition, and tore out of the driveway, the tires screeching on the asphalt.
The drive to Gary was a blur of adrenaline and pain. I kept off the interstate, taking the winding, unlit back roads I remembered from my bleak childhood.
As I approached the private airfield, the sky was pitch black. No police sirens. No federal helicopters.
The ambush hadn't happened yet.
I killed the headlights and coasted the heavy SUV toward the edge of the chain-link fence bordering the hangars.
I saw Luca’s fleet of black SUVs parked near Hangar 4. They were silent. Waiting.
And parked fifty yards away, completely dark, was a massive federal mobile command unit. The FBI was sitting in the shadows, waiting for Luca to make the first move.
But something was wrong.
A third group of cars—unmarked, rusted sedans—was circling the back of the hangar.
The rival families. They had shown up to scavenge the remains.
I had to warn Luca before he walked into the crossfire.
I grabbed the heavy handgun, pushed the car door open, and limped into the tall grass near the fence line.
I moved as fast as I could, biting my lip until it bled to ignore the shooting pain in my ankle. I reached the side door of Hangar 4. It was slightly ajar.
I slipped inside.
The hangar was massive, smelling of aviation fuel and old metal.
In the center of the room, standing under a single halogen light, was Luca.
He was holding his gun, aiming it at Leo, the traitorous courier, who was kneeling on the concrete floor, bleeding from a shoulder wound.
"Where is the necklace, Leo?" Luca demanded, his voice echoing in the empty space.
"I don't have it," Leo gasped, coughing up blood. "Arthur lied to you. It was a setup."
"I know it's a setup," Luca said coldly. "But you're still going to die for betraying this family."
He raised the gun to Leo’s head.
"Luca, stop!" I screamed, stepping out of the shadows.
Luca spun around, his gun instantly locking onto me. His eyes widened in absolute shock.
"Hannah?" Luca breathed, lowering the weapon slightly. "What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay at the house!"
"It's a federal trap!" I yelled, limping toward him. "The FBI is outside! And the rival families are circling the back!"
Luca’s face hardened. He grabbed his radio. "Daniel. We’re compromised. Pull the men out."
Silence. The jammer was still active.
"We’re cut off," Luca realized, grabbing my arm to pull me behind a stack of metal crates. "How did you get past the perimeter?"
"I took the back roads," I said, my chest heaving. "Luca, Vanessa didn't have the necklace. Camilla did. I have it."
Luca’s eyes widened. "You have the necklace? The access codes?"
"There are no access codes," I said, reaching into my apron pocket. "Your father didn't hide money in the emerald, Luca. He hid this."
I pulled out the photograph and shoved it into his hands.
Luca stared at the photo. He read the handwriting on the back. The true heir. Keep her hidden.
He looked at the woman’s face. Then, slowly, terrifyingly, he looked up at me.
I watched the realization hit him like a freight train. The head of the Moretti family realized he was looking at his older sister. The rightful heir to the throne.
Before Luca could say a single word, the massive metal doors of the hangar groaned open.
May you like
But it wasn't the FBI who walked in.
It was Arthur Moretti, covered in blood, holding a detonator in his hand.
