Chapter 6 - THE TORN TICKET
“A boat?” Sofia gasped, grabbing the back of Vanessa’s seat. “Where? Where are they?”
Vanessa just smiled.
Luca’s jaw clenched. “Turn the car around. Head for the docks.”
“Which docks, sir?” the driver asked, panicking. “Chicago has dozens of marinas.”
We had no idea where to go.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think. The coat. The tag. The lie. Vanessa had wanted us to go to Midway because it was far from the water. She had planted that coat tag intentionally.
But there was something else.
Earlier that afternoon, before the dinner party, I had taken Vanessa’s trash out. I remembered picking up a torn piece of thick cardstock.
“The Navy Pier,” I said suddenly.
Luca looked back at me.
“In her wastebasket,” I explained, my words rushing out. “There was a torn stub for a private yacht charter. The Sapphire. Dock 4.”
Vanessa lunged over the seat, trying to grab me with her zip-tied hands. “I’ll kill you! I’ll rip your hair out!”
Luca shoved her back into the seat effortlessly. “Navy Pier. Dock 4. Now.”
The SUV tore through the city, tires screaming as we took corners at terrifying speeds.
Sofia squeezed my hand so tightly I thought my fingers would break. “Thank you, Emily. Thank you.”
“We don’t have them yet,” I whispered, praying my mother was safe.
My phone vibrated.
I hesitated, terrified to look. Slowly, I pulled it out.
It was a text from an unknown number, but it wasn’t the same one.
Target neutralized. Your mother is sleeping. Guard posted at her door. - Vince.
A massive wave of relief washed over me. I showed the screen to Luca. He gave a single, firm nod.
We pulled into the parking area near Navy Pier. The night air was freezing, biting through my wet, wine-stained uniform.
“Stay in the car,” Luca ordered his sister and me. He pulled his weapon, signaling his three guards to flank him.
They moved like shadows toward the private docks.
Sofia and I watched through the tinted windows. My heart pounded against my ribs.
Through the fog, I saw the Sapphire. It was a massive, sleek luxury yacht. The engines were already rumbling, churning the dark water. Men in dark jackets were untying the heavy ropes.
Luca didn’t hesitate. He raised his weapon and fired a warning shot into the air.
The men on the dock spun around, pulling their own guns. Gunfire erupted, flashing in the dark.
Sofia screamed, covering her ears.
Luca and his men took cover behind a stack of shipping crates, returning fire. Two of Vanessa’s men went down. The third jumped onto the deck of the yacht as it began to drift away from the dock.
“They’re leaving!” Sofia sobbed, pressing her hands against the glass. “Luca, they’re getting away!”
Luca broke from cover, sprinting down the wooden pier as bullets splintered the wood around his feet. He took a running leap over the freezing water.
He crashed onto the back deck of the yacht, rolling to his feet.
The man on the boat aimed his gun at Luca’s head.
Before he could pull the trigger, a small, terrified voice screamed from the upper deck.
“Uncle Luca!”
It was Leo.
The gunman glanced up for a fraction of a second. It was all Luca needed. He fired twice, and the man dropped.
Luca ran up the stairs.
A moment later, the yacht’s engines died.
May you like
Through the fog, we saw Luca step back onto the main deck. He was holding four-year-old Mia in one arm, and six-year-old Leo was clutching his leg.
Sofia threw open the car door and ran.
