Chapter 2 - THE SILVER LOCKET
The rain started falling again, drumming a slow, steady rhythm against the plastic roof of the bus shelter.
Luca Moretti didn't move. He sat completely still, the damp funeral program gripped in one large hand, the faded photograph of the real Vanessa Bellini in the other.
"The last person to see her alive?" Luca repeated. His voice was no longer the polite, controlled tone he used at dinner parties. It was the terrifying, hollow calm of a man who realized his entire foundation was built over a sinkhole.
Margaret pulled her thin coat tighter around her shoulders, shivering.
"They were roommates," the older woman whispered, her voice barely carrying over the sound of passing cars. "In college. My Vanessa was sweet, but… she was a trusting girl. The other girl, the one in your house, her real name is Clara. Clara Vance."
Clara.
Luca looked back at the photograph of the real Vanessa. The bright smile. The small birthmark. The genuine warmth that the woman back at the mansion had perfectly, flawlessly imitated for the past two years.
"Vanessa drowned," Margaret continued, tears finally spilling over her wrinkled cheeks. "The police said it was an accident. A late-night swim at the quarry. But Clara had Vanessa’s ID when she reported it. She had her keys. Her bank cards." Margaret’s breathing became ragged. "And Clara disappeared the day after the funeral. I never saw her again until I saw your newspaper announcement."
"Why didn't you go to the police?" Luca asked.
"I did!" Margaret cried. "But Clara’s family… they had money. They had lawyers. They said I was just a grieving mother looking for someone to blame. And Clara… she knew how to cry on cue. She convinced everyone she was heartbroken."
Luca stared at the funeral program.
A chilling realization washed over him. Clara hadn't just stolen a name. She had stolen a life, an identity, and carefully maneuvered herself into the arms of one of the wealthiest men in Chicago.
"She came to the gate today," Luca said slowly, piecing it together. "She recognized you. She knew you could expose her."
"She panicked," Margaret nodded, wiping her eyes. "She told me if I didn't leave immediately, she would make sure I never made it back to Milwaukee. That’s when the young maid tried to let me in. Clara pushed the gate to stop her. She didn't care that she hurt the girl. She only cared about keeping me out."
Luca’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near his ear.
He had watched Clara—no, Vanessa—smile brightly over dessert, wearing a red silk gown, perfectly composed while the maid she injured limped across the dining room.
"Daniel," Luca said softly, speaking into the Bluetooth earpiece hidden beneath his dark hair.
"Yes, Boss?" Daniel, his head of security, replied instantly.
"I need a full background check on a Clara Vance. Look back eight years. Milwaukee area. I want everything."
"On it."
Luca turned back to Margaret. The fierce, untouchable mafia boss had completely vanished, replaced by a quiet, protective force.
"You aren't taking a bus back to Milwaukee tonight, Margaret," Luca said, standing up and reaching for her brown suitcase. "You're coming with me to a safe house. You will be protected. I swear it."
Margaret hesitated, looking up at him with fearful eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"I am going to find out exactly who I invited into my home," Luca said.
He helped the older woman into the back of his armored SUV, ensuring the heat was turned up and the doors were locked. Then, he got into the driver’s seat.
But as he put the car in gear, his phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number.
He opened it.
There was no text. Just a single photograph.
It was a picture of Lucy, the injured maid. She was sitting in the estate’s medical room, her stocking rolled down, the doctor examining her leg.
Underneath the photo was a message:
If Margaret speaks, the maid doesn't make it to morning.
Luca froze.
Reversal.
Clara hadn't just panicked at the gate. She had anticipated this. She had eyes on Lucy inside the estate right now.
"Daniel," Luca barked into the earpiece, slamming the SUV into drive.
"Boss, I’m running that name—"
"Forget the name!" Luca roared, tires screeching as he spun the car around. "Get to the medical wing. Secure Lucy Bennett. Now!"
"Boss, what's happening?"
"Just get to her!"
Luca tore down Sheridan Road, the engine roaring, the speedometer climbing past ninety.
"Daniel!" Luca yelled, pulling into the estate’s long driveway minutes later. "Status!"
Static crackled in his ear.
Then, Daniel’s voice came through, completely breathless.
"She's gone, Boss."
Luca slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding to a halt outside the grand entrance. "What do you mean she's gone?"
"The doctor is unconscious on the floor," Daniel panted. "Lucy isn't here. But I found something."
"What?"
"A silver locket," Daniel said. "It was torn off her neck. It’s lying in the hallway."
May you like
Luca stared at the massive, brightly lit mansion. The engagement party was still going on inside. Music was playing. Guests were laughing.
And somewhere inside, his fiancée was holding the injured maid hostage.
