Chapter 6 - THE ROSARY IN THE DARK
The phone slipped from my good hand, clattering against the kitchen counter.
Vanessa’s laughter echoed through the speaker before the line went dead.
I gripped the edge of the granite sink, my knuckles turning white, gasping for air. The room spun.
My mother.
She was helpless, bedridden, completely dependent on the oxygen machine sitting next to her armchair. I had worked every terrible shift, scrubbed every floor in the Moretti mansion, just to keep her comfortable. Now, because of me, she was going to die.
"Emma?"
I turned around. Rosa was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding little Mia’s hand. She saw the sheer terror on my face.
"What happened?" the older woman asked softly.
Tears spilled down my cheeks. "Vanessa. She has my mother. She said if I don't bring you and Mia to her... she’s going to kill her."
Rosa’s face went pale. She looked down at her granddaughter, then back at me.
For twelve years, Rosa had been a prisoner to the Bellini family. She knew exactly what Vanessa was capable of. She knew they wouldn't hesitate to murder an innocent old woman.
I expected Rosa to panic. I expected her to tell me no, to beg me to protect them.
Instead, Luca's mother straightened her fragile spine. She walked into the kitchen and picked up my bloody phone.
"What is the address?" Rosa asked.
I stared at her. "Mrs. Moretti, we can't go. If we walk into Vanessa’s hands, she’ll kill all of us."
"If we stay here, she kills your mother," Rosa said firmly. "You risked your life to drive us away from the airport. You threw yourself in front of a bullet for my son. Our family owes your family a debt. We are going."
"But Mia—"
"Mia is coming with us," Rosa said, her eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce strength. "Because Vanessa wants her daughter back to hide the evidence. She won't shoot her. She will use us as leverage against Luca. It’s the only way to buy time."
I didn't know if it was bravery or madness, but I didn't have a choice. I quickly bandaged my hand, grabbed the spare keys Luca had left on the counter, and led them out of the safehouse.
We climbed into a dusty SUV parked in the garage.
I checked the address Vanessa had texted. It wasn't a warehouse. It wasn't the docks.
It was an abandoned Catholic church on the south side of the city.
The drive took exactly seventeen minutes. Every second felt like an hour. The rain had turned into a torrential downpour, flooding the streets.
We pulled up to the looming, gothic structure. The stained glass windows were dark, the wooden doors rotting.
"Stay close to me," I whispered to Mia as we got out of the car.
I pushed open the heavy wooden doors.
Inside, the church was lit only by a few flickering construction lights.
Sitting in a wheelchair at the center of the aisle, wrapped in a thin blanket, was my mother. Two massive men in black suits stood behind her. One of them held his hand over the valve of her portable oxygen tank.
"Mom!" I cried out, rushing forward.
One of the men raised a gun, stopping me in my tracks.
From the shadows near the altar, a figure stepped forward.
It wasn't Vanessa.
It was a tall, older man with silver hair, wearing an expensive tailored suit. He leaned heavily on a silver-tipped cane.
"Hello, Rosa," the man said. His voice was smooth, cultured, and dripping with venom.
Rosa gasped, clutching Mia to her side. "Carlo."
Vanessa’s father. The architect of the entire nightmare.
"I must admit," Carlo Bellini said, walking slowly down the aisle, the thump, thump of his cane echoing in the empty church. "I am disappointed. My daughter assured me she could handle a simple cleanup operation at the airport. Instead, she let a housemaid outsmart her."
He looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Where is Vanessa?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "Let my mother go."
"Vanessa is currently at the Moretti estate, dealing with Luca and Antonio," Carlo said casually. "She is retrieving the ledgers. I am here to retrieve my granddaughter."
He extended his hand toward Mia. "Come here, child."
Mia buried her face in my coat. "No. You’re the bad man."
Carlo sighed. "Pity. I suppose she’ll have to learn respect the hard way." He snapped his fingers. "Put the old woman in the van. We’re taking them all."
The guard behind my mother grabbed the handles of her wheelchair.
"Wait!" I screamed.
But as the guard yanked the chair backward, the thin blanket slipped off my mother’s lap.
Something fell to the stone floor with a heavy clatter.
Carlo stopped. He looked down.
Lying on the floor was a beautiful, ornate silver rosary. The beads were polished obsidian, the crucifix heavy and antique.
Carlo’s face drained of color. He stared at the rosary as if he had just seen a ghost.
"Where did you get that?" Carlo whispered, his voice suddenly trembling.
My mother, who had been quiet and confused the entire time, slowly lifted her head. She looked at Carlo, her eyes surprisingly clear.
"You gave it to my husband," my mother said weakly. "Right before you killed him."
I froze. I stopped breathing.
My father hadn't died in a car accident twenty years ago.
"Mom?" I breathed, staring at her in shock. "What are you talking about?"
Carlo raised his cane, pointing it directly at my mother. "Shut her up! Shoot her right now!"
But before the guard could raise his weapon, the stained glass window above the altar shattered into a million pieces.
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A flash-bang grenade dropped onto the stone floor, exploding in a blinding burst of white light.
TITLE: THE GHOST OF THE PAST
