Chapter 6 - THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN
The train ticket sat on the hardwood floor, a white rectangle of absolute dread.
The destination printed in bold black ink wasn't Geneva. It wasn't a fancy boarding school.
It was a one-way ticket to a remote industrial town in northern Canada. A place where people disappeared and were never found.
“Step away from the door, kid,” the man’s voice growled from the hallway.
I grabbed Ella’s hand.
“Come on,” I whispered, pulling her toward the en suite bathroom.
“Where are we going?” she cried softly.
“We have to hide.”
Just as we reached the bathroom tiles, the bedroom door exploded inward.
Splinters of oak rained across the carpet as the lock completely gave way.
I shoved Ella behind the heavy marble vanity of the bathroom and spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs.
A man stood in the doorway. He was wearing a tailored suit, one of the "guests" who had been eating the dinner I served just an hour ago. He held a suppressed pistol in his right hand.
He stepped over Mrs. Carter, who lay groaning on the hallway floor, clutching a bleeding shoulder.
“Where’s the girl?” he asked, stepping into the bedroom.
He didn't look like a monster. He looked like a banker. That made it so much worse.
“She’s not here,” I lied, backing away slowly.
The man sighed, annoyed. He raised the gun and pointed it directly at my chest.
“I don't have time for this, Grace. Hand over the kid, and I'll let you walk out the back door.”
I recognized his voice. He had asked me for more red wine during the second course.
“Why are you doing this?” I stalled, my hands gripping the edge of the bathroom doorframe. “Luca will kill you.”
“Luca is currently surrounded by ten armed men in his own dining room,” the man said flatly. “Carlo runs the family now. Vanessa gets the house. And the girl goes away. That’s the deal.”
He took another step toward me.
“I won't let you take her,” I said.
It was a stupid thing to say. I was a housemaid with a busted hand. He was an assassin.
But the words felt true.
The man smiled thinly. “You don't have a choice.”
He reached out to grab my arm.
Suddenly, a loud, shrill ringing pierced the room.
The man froze.
It was his cell phone.
He hesitated, keeping the gun leveled at me, and used his free hand to pull the phone from his breast pocket. He glanced at the screen.
His face went pale.
He answered it, pressing it to his ear.
“Yeah?” he said nervously.
I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but I saw the man’s eyes widen in genuine terror.
“No,” the man stammered. “No, she’s right here. I’m getting her now.”
A pause.
“But... how did you get past the perimeter?”
Another pause.
The man slowly lowered the gun. He looked at me, but he wasn't seeing me anymore. He was looking at a ghost.
“Yes, sir,” he whispered into the phone.
He hung up.
He took one step backward. Then another.
Without another word, the man turned and sprinted down the hallway, leaving the broken door wide open.
I stood completely still, unable to process what had just happened.
“Grace?” Ella whimpered from behind the vanity.
“Stay there,” I breathed.
I crept forward, peering out into the hallway.
The mansion was eerily quiet. The sounds of fighting in the dining room had stopped.
I looked down at Mrs. Carter. She was clutching her shoulder, breathing heavily.
“Mrs. Carter, who was on the phone?” I asked, kneeling beside her.
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock.
“It wasn't Carlo,” she gasped. “And it wasn't Luca.”
Before I could ask anything else, a shadow fell over the hallway.
I looked up.
A woman was standing at the end of the corridor.
She was dressed in a pristine white Chanel suit. Her silver hair was perfectly coiffed.
It was Maria Moretti. Luca’s mother.
She walked slowly toward us, her heels clicking against the hardwood. She completely ignored Mrs. Carter bleeding on the floor.
She stopped in front of me and looked into the bedroom.
“Where is my granddaughter?” the old woman demanded, her voice like grinding glass.
I stood up, blocking the doorway.
“You abandoned her on a street corner,” I said, anger finally overtaking my fear.
Maria scoffed. “I left her where she would be found by the right people. It was the only way to ensure the transfer happened tonight without Luca interfering.”
She looked at my bandaged hand, then at my apron.
“You are a maid,” she said with utter disgust. “Move out of my way.”
“No.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed. She raised her left hand.
On her index finger was a massive, flawless diamond ring. It hadn't been there when I served her tea yesterday.
“Do you know what this ring is?” she asked coldly.
“The price of your granddaughter,” I spat.
“It is survival,” Maria snapped. “Luca was weak. He wouldn't make the hard choices. The Bellinis demanded a blood sacrifice for the peace. If I didn't give them Ella, they would have killed my son.”
“So you traded a child for a diamond.”
“I traded a liability for an empire!” she hissed.
She reached into her designer handbag.
When her hand came out, she wasn't holding a phone.
She was holding a small, silver revolver.
She pointed it directly at my face.
“Bring her out,” Maria ordered.
I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst.
But suddenly, a voice echoed from the end of the hallway. A voice that made Maria Moretti freeze in terror.
“Put the gun down, mother.”
I opened my eyes.
Standing in the shadows at the end of the hall was a man. But it wasn't Luca.
He stepped into the light.
He was wearing a dark suit, his right arm wrapped in a makeshift bandage soaked in blood.
It was Marco Bellini. The man whose coat Ella was wearing.
Maria’s hand shook. “Marco. You’re supposed to be dead.”
Marco smiled. It was a terrifying, hollow thing.
“I decided not to die today, Maria,” he said softly.
He lifted his left hand.
May you like
In it, he held a detonator.
“Tell the maid to bring the child,” Marco said. “Or I blow the foundation of this house into dust.”
