Chapter 8 - THE EMERALD NECKLACE
Luca stared at the emerald necklace gleaming in the moonlight spilling through the open window.
Henry hadn't taken it.
He had left it.
Luca walked over to the bed and pulled the knife free.
Beneath the necklace was a torn piece of paper.
I don't need the trust anymore. I just need revenge. Meet me at the greenhouse.
Luca’s blood ran cold. Henry knew his daughter was ruined, his plan was exposed, and his freedom was gone. He had nothing left to lose.
Luca snatched the emerald necklace, shoved it into his pocket, and vaulted out the open window onto the balcony.
He didn't wait for backup.
He climbed down the stone trellis, ignoring the sharp pain as the rough stone cut into his hands, and hit the wet grass running.
The estate grounds were pitch black, the rain masking the sound of his footsteps.
He approached the old glass greenhouse.
Inside, a single camping lantern illuminated the damp, humid space.
Henry was standing by the large potting table.
He had one arm wrapped tightly around Madison’s neck, pinning her against his chest. In his other hand, he held a heavy steel wrench.
Little Leo was huddled in the corner behind a row of terracotta pots, crying silently.
“Drop the gun, Luca,” Henry commanded, tightening his grip on Madison’s throat.
She gasped, her face turning pale.
Luca stopped at the entrance, the rain pouring down his back.
He didn't lower the weapon.
“You’re a dead man, Henry.”
“Probably,” Henry laughed bitterly. “But I’m going to make sure you have nothing left to love before I go.”
“Let them go. You can take the cars, the cash in the safe. You can disappear.”
Henry shook his head. “Vanessa is in a cage because of you. My legacy is gone.”
“Your legacy?” Luca sneered. “You locked your own grandson in a basement.”
“He’s a defect!” Henry spat, glaring at the little boy.
Madison suddenly drove her elbow backward, catching Henry directly in his wounded right shoulder.
Henry howled in pain, stumbling back.
Luca didn't hesitate.
He fired.
The bullet struck Henry in the leg.
The older man collapsed, crashing through a wooden trellis of climbing roses, shattering glass and terracotta.
Madison scrambled away, scooping Leo into her arms and running straight to Luca.
Luca shoved them behind him, keeping his gun trained on Henry, who was writhing on the floor, clutching his bleeding thigh.
Daniel and five security guards burst into the greenhouse a second later, their flashlights cutting through the dark.
“Secure him,” Luca ordered coldly. “If he bleeds out before the police arrive, don't try to stop it.”
He turned to Madison. She was shaking violently, clutching the terrified little boy to her chest.
Luca wrapped his arms around both of them.
“It’s over,” he whispered against her wet hair. “I’ve got you.”
Later that night, the estate was flooded with police lights.
Henry was carried out on a stretcher, handcuffed to the rails.
The house lights were restored.
Luca sat in the grand study, watching the fire crackle in the hearth. Madison was sitting on the sofa next to him, wrapped in a thick blanket. Leo was asleep on her lap, his small hands gripping her sweater.
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out the emerald necklace.
He looked at it under the firelight.
“My mother left this for my future wife,” Luca said quietly.
Madison looked at the beautiful stones. “She wanted Vanessa to have it?”
“No.”
Luca turned the necklace over.
He pressed his thumb against the back of the heavy gold setting holding the emerald.
With a soft click, the backing slid open.
It wasn't just an engraving of a combination.
Tucked inside the tiny compartment was a perfectly folded piece of microfilm.
Luca walked over to his desk, placed the film under his high-powered magnifying lamp, and looked through the lens.
He went completely still.
“What is it?” Madison asked softly.
Luca slowly stood up. He looked at Madison, his heart pounding in his chest.
“It’s a birth certificate.”
“Leo’s?”
“No.” Luca swallowed hard. “Yours.”
Madison frowned in confusion. “My birth certificate?”
“Madison,” Luca said, his voice trembling slightly. “Elizabeth Reed isn't your biological mother. You were adopted.”
Madison stared at him, the color draining from her face.
Luca looked back at the magnifying lamp.
The name on the birth certificate wasn't Madison Reed.
May you like
It was Madison Moretti.
“Isabella didn't just have a son,” Luca whispered. “She had a daughter.”
