Chapter 3 - THE RED COAT
“Whose child is this?”
Luca’s voice wasn’t a command anymore.
It was a plea.
He was holding the piece of construction paper like it was made of glass. His thumb traced the jagged crayon scar on the stick figure’s face.
I stood up, the pain in my bruised arm completely forgotten.
“His name is Leo,” I said, my voice remarkably steady despite the tears on my face. “He is seven years old.”
Luca did the math instantly.
Seven years old.
The crash was six years ago.
“Maya was pregnant,” Luca realized, the words catching in his throat. “When the car went off the bridge. She was already pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And Marco knew.”
“He was going to marry her,” I said quietly. “That theater ticket? The one Vanessa was trying to burn tonight? It was from the night Marco proposed. Maya called me from the lobby. She was so happy. She said Marco was finally going to stand up to your mother. He was going to leave the family business and take us to California.”
Luca stared at the wall, his mind connecting years of lies in a matter of seconds.
“He told me he was going to a meeting after the play,” Luca muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “He told me he had to settle a debt. Then the police called at 2:00 A.M.”
“Maya never made it into that car,” I said, stepping closer to him. “The purse the police found in the passenger seat? She left it in the coat check at the theater. Someone planted it in the wreckage to make you think she was dead.”
Luca slowly lowered the child’s drawing.
His eyes locked onto mine. The sorrow in them was vanishing, replaced by a cold, terrifying fury.
“Where is my nephew, Nora?”
The word hung in the air.
Nephew.
He had accepted it instantly. No doubts. No questions. The blood loyalty of the Moretti family ran deeper than any lie Vanessa could tell.
“He’s safe,” I said quickly. “He’s with my neighbor, Mrs. Gable. She watches him while I work the evening shifts.”
“And Maya?”
I swallowed hard.
“She hid. For seven years, we moved from apartment to apartment. She was terrified of your family. She told me the Morettis would take Leo away and kill her if they ever found out.”
Luca winced, as if I had struck him.
“I wouldn’t have,” he whispered. “Marco was my brother. I would have protected them.”
“She didn’t know that,” I said gently. “But four months ago… Maya got sick. Cancer. It was fast. Before she died, she told me that Vanessa had been at the theater that night. Vanessa was the one who told Maya to run. Vanessa said your mother had cut the brake lines on Marco’s car to stop the wedding.”
Luca froze.
“My mother?”
“That’s what Vanessa told Maya.”
Luca shook his head slowly, a dark realization settling over his features.
“My mother was ruthless, Nora. But she loved Marco more than life itself. She wouldn’t have touched his car.”
He looked down at the burnt theater ticket on my bed.
Then at the photograph of Vanessa and Marco.
“Vanessa lied,” Luca said, his voice turning to ice. “Vanessa cut the lines. She wanted Marco. When he chose a cocktail waitress over her, she killed him. And she used my mother’s reputation to terrify Maya into hiding so no one would ever question the missing body.”
My stomach plummeted.
It made perfect sense. The manipulation. The cruelty. The absolute control Vanessa demanded over everything in the house.
“Then why are you here?” Luca asked, looking at me. “If Maya is gone, and Leo is safe. Why risk coming into my home?”
I walked over to my small closet.
I reached all the way to the back and pulled out a heavy plastic garment bag.
I unzipped it.
Inside was a striking, expensive red wool coat.
Luca recognized it instantly.
“That’s Vanessa’s,” he said.
“I found it in the basement storage three weeks ago,” I explained, carrying the heavy coat to the bed. “I was supposed to donate the old winter clothes. But I felt something in the lining.”
I laid the red coat flat.
I pointed to the left pocket. The seam at the bottom had been carefully ripped open and hastily sewn shut again.
“I found Leo’s drawing stuffed inside this lining,” I said.
Luca frowned. “How would Vanessa have a drawing made by Leo? You said he was safe.”
“He was,” I whispered, my voice shaking again. “Until a month ago. Leo started coming home from school with expensive chocolates. Little toys. He said a ‘nice lady with red lips’ was visiting him at recess.”
Luca’s eyes widened.
“Vanessa found him.”
“She knows he exists,” I cried, clutching the fabric of the red coat. “She knows he’s the true heir to the Moretti estate. And if she marries you… she becomes untouchable. If she gets rid of Leo after the wedding, all the money, all the properties, they default to her if anything happens to you.”
Luca didn’t speak.
He reached out and touched the red wool of the coat.
His fingers brushed against a large, decorative brass button near the collar.
He stopped.
He pressed his thumb against the button.
“Nora,” he said quietly. “Bring me your sewing scissors.”
I blinked, confused, but hurried to my desk. I handed him the small metal scissors.
Luca didn’t hesitate. He jammed the scissors under the thick brass button of the expensive coat and sliced through the heavy thread.
The button popped off into his palm.
Only, it wasn’t just a button.
It was hollow.
Luca turned it over.
Tucked inside the hollow backing of the large brass button was a tiny, folded piece of micro-film.
“She didn’t just keep the drawing as a trophy,” Luca said, his voice deadly calm. “She kept insurance.”
He held the micro-film up to the weak light of my bedside lamp.
I leaned in, squinting.
It was a miniaturized photograph.
A picture of a black car.
Marco’s car.
Taken inside a mechanic’s garage, hours before the crash.
And standing next to the exposed brake lines, holding a pair of heavy wire cutters, was Vanessa.
“She documented it,” Luca whispered, disgust lacing every syllable. “In case my mother ever tried to cross her. Mutually assured destruction.”
Luca closed his fist around the button.
He looked at me, and the mafia boss was fully back. Cold. Lethal. Absolute.
“Pack your things,” Luca ordered. “We are leaving right now. We’re getting Leo, and you are both going to a safe house.”
“What about Vanessa?” I asked, my heart hammering.
“Vanessa is going to have a very tragic accident before the wedding.”
Before I could nod, before I could even grab my duffel bag, my cell phone vibrated on the desk.
I froze.
I only gave this number to one person.
Mrs. Gable. The babysitter.
I snatched the phone and answered.
“Mrs. Gable?”
Static crackled on the other end.
Then, a voice spoke.
It wasn’t the elderly babysitter.
It was smooth. Elegant. Dripping with false sweetness.
“Hello, Nora.”
My blood turned to ice water.
Vanessa.
“I must say,” Vanessa purred through the phone, “your apartment is charming. Small, but charming.”
Luca was instantly at my side, pressing his ear to the phone.
“Where is my son?” I screamed, not caring who heard me.
Vanessa sighed gracefully.
“He’s right here. He’s such a polite boy. He even made me a drawing.”
May you like
A pause.
“But if you and Luca aren’t in the main study in exactly two minutes, little Leo is going to take a very long nap.”
