Chapter 6 - THE GHOST IN THE HALLWAY
We spun around.
Standing in the shadows of the hallway was a man holding a shotgun.
It wasn't Carmine's men.
It was Anthony Russo.
The financial advisor who had supposedly died twelve years ago. He looked older, hardened, his face scarred. But it was him.
"Anthony," Luca said, keeping his weapon aimed. "Where is my mother?"
Anthony lowered the shotgun slowly. "She's safe, Luca. For now. I moved her two hours before Carmine's men arrived."
Luca didn't lower his gun. "You let me believe you were dead for twelve years. You let my father suffer."
"I had to!" Anthony fired back, his voice thick with emotion. "Carmine put a hit on me twelve years ago when I found out your mother was still alive. If I hadn't faked my death, I couldn't have spent the last decade trying to find where he hid her!"
"Why didn't you come to me?" Luca demanded.
"Because your estate was compromised!" Anthony yelled. "Vanessa was working for Carmine from the day you met her. If I had approached you, Carmine would have executed your mother immediately."
I stood in the dusty room, trying to process it all.
"Then why now?" I asked, stepping forward. "Why did you bring her to the estate on Tuesday?"
Anthony looked at me. "Because Giuseppe’s health was failing. Vanessa was going to lock him in that facility to force him to sign over his proxy to Carmine. We needed to prove to Giuseppe that his wife was alive so he would fight back."
Anthony pulled a set of car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Luca.
"She's at the harbor. Pier 34. I booked a private charter to get her out of the country."
Luca caught the keys. "Come with us."
"I can't," Anthony said softly. He pulled back his jacket.
A dark, wet stain covered his side. He had been shot.
"Carmine's men caught up to me at the gate," Anthony coughed, sinking against the wall. "I bought you time. Go."
Luca knelt beside the man who had sacrificed everything for his family. He gripped his shoulder. "I'll send an ambulance."
"Just save her, kid," Anthony smiled weakly.
We ran back to the SUV. Luca drove like a madman toward the harbor.
The rain started pouring as we reached Pier 34. The docks were deserted, save for a small, idling yacht at the end of the wooden pier.
Luca jumped out of the car, sprinting through the rain. I followed close behind.
"Mom!" Luca yelled over the sound of the crashing waves.
A figure stepped out from the cabin of the yacht.
She was thin, her dark hair streaked with gray, wrapped in a heavy blanket. But the moment she saw him, she dropped the blanket.
"Luca," she sobbed.
Luca hit the wooden deck and threw his arms around his mother. Fifteen years of grief, lies, and mourning vanished in the pouring rain. They held each other, weeping uncontrollably.
I stood on the pier, tears mixing with the rain on my face, watching a family finally put back together.
But as I looked up at the yacht's cabin window, my blood ran cold.
Standing inside the dark cabin, watching them, wasn't a captain.
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It was Vanessa.
And she was holding a gun to the back of Luca's mother's head.
