Chapter 3 - The Emerald in the Fire
The silence in the dining room shattered.
Guests began murmuring, shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. Several of the older mob associates at the far end of the table exchanged dark, knowing glances.
Vanessa’s face turned the color of ash.
“Teresa,” Vanessa laughed, high and breathless. “You’re confused again. You don’t know what you’re saying. I was having my own jewelry cleaned—”
“I am old, Vanessa,” Teresa interrupted, her voice steady and sharp. “I am not blind. And I am not stupid.”
Teresa slowly pushed herself up from her chair. I instinctively stepped forward to help her, but she waved me off.
She pointed a trembling, age-spotted finger at Vanessa.
“I watched you take that bracelet out of your purse in the drawing room. I heard you on the phone with the appraiser. You told him the stones were untraceable.”
Luca didn’t look at his mother.
He looked at the emerald bracelet in his hand, then at Vanessa.
“Is that true?” Luca asked.
His tone wasn’t angry. It was empty. And that was infinitely more terrifying.
Vanessa backed away, her red dress rustling loudly in the quiet room.
“Luca, please. The old woman hates me. She’s making it up because she wants Isabella back.”
Daniel stepped out from behind his father.
“Mom said you stole it from her.”
“Shut up, you little brat!” Vanessa shrieked, losing her composure entirely.
Two of Luca’s personal guards immediately stepped away from the double doors, moving toward Vanessa.
Luca held up a single hand.
The guards froze.
“Julian,” Luca said, turning his head slowly toward his cousin. “You said Isabella took the money and left. But my son has the bracelet. And my mother says Vanessa tried to fence it.”
Julian swallowed. A bead of sweat traced the line of his jaw.
“Luca, I didn’t know about the jewelry. Vanessa must have found it after Isabella left. You know how Vanessa is with money.”
Answer one.
Julian was throwing Vanessa to the wolves to save himself.
Vanessa realized it instantly.
Her panic turned to pure, venomous rage.
“Don’t you dare put this on me, Julian!” Vanessa screamed, pointing at the financial advisor. “You gave me that bracelet! You told me it was my payment for keeping Daniel quiet!”
Julian’s eyes widened. “She’s lying, Luca. She’s hysterical.”
But Luca wasn’t listening to Julian anymore.
He was putting the pieces together.
“Payment,” Luca repeated softly. “Payment for what, Vanessa?”
Vanessa was trembling violently. She looked at the forty guests, realizing her life of luxury, her engagement, and possibly her freedom were disintegrating in real-time.
“Julian forced her to leave, Luca,” Vanessa cried, tears streaking her immaculate makeup. “He found out Isabella was looking into the offshore accounts. She found the missing money. Millions, Luca. Julian has been stealing from the family for five years.”
Julian lunged forward. “Shut your mouth!”
He reached inside his tailored jacket.
Before Julian’s hand could even grip the weapon, Luca moved.
It was blindingly fast. The grace of a man who had survived a violent world by being quicker and more ruthless than his enemies.
Luca grabbed the heavy crystal wine decanter from the table and smashed it across Julian’s face.
The glass shattered. Red wine exploded like blood across the white linen.
Julian collapsed to the floor, groaning, holding his bleeding face.
The guests screamed. Chairs toppled as people scrambled backward.
Luca stood over his cousin, a jagged shard of crystal still in his hand.
“Take him to the basement,” Luca ordered his guards, his chest heaving. “Do not let him pass out. I want him awake when I come down.”
The guards dragged Julian out of the dining room, leaving a trail of spilled wine and blood.
Luca dropped the broken crystal onto the table.
He turned to Vanessa.
She dropped to her knees, sobbing.
“I’m sorry, Luca. I didn’t want to hurt you. Julian said he’d frame me for the embezzlement if I didn’t help him push Isabella out. I was scared.”
“Where is my wife?” Luca asked.
“I don’t know!” Vanessa sobbed. “She ran! Julian threatened to kill Daniel if she didn’t sign the papers and leave. That’s why she took the money. She was trying to buy time to hide!”
I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
Isabella hadn’t abandoned her son.
She had sacrificed her marriage, her reputation, and her entire life to keep a loaded gun pointed away from her child’s head.
Luca closed his eyes. A profound, agonizing shudder ran through his body.
He dropped to his knees in the spilled wine and pulled Daniel into a desperate, crushing hug.
“I’m sorry,” Luca wept into his son’s wet hair. “God, I’m so sorry, buddy. I didn’t know. I should have protected her. I should have known.”
Daniel wrapped his arms around his father’s neck, crying just as hard.
“It’s okay, Dad. Mom said you didn’t know. She said she still loves you.”
I looked away, wiping my own eyes.
Teresa stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder.
“We have to find her, Luca.”
Luca wiped his face and stood up. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by an iron resolve.
He looked at Vanessa, who was still cowering on the floor.
“Get out of my house. If you are still in Chicago by morning, I will let my men handle you.”
Vanessa scrambled to her feet and ran from the room without looking back.
Luca turned to the forty silent, terrified guests.
“Dinner is over.”
Within five minutes, the mansion was empty of outsiders.
Luca grabbed his coat. He looked at Daniel.
“Buddy, where did your mom drop you off?”
“Three blocks away,” Daniel said, sniffing. “She said she couldn’t come to the gate.”
“Did she tell you where she was going next?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No. She just told me to wait until you came outside.”
Luca cursed under his breath. He ran his hands through his hair.
“She’s been hiding for eighteen months. If she thinks Julian is still in control, she’s going to run again. We have no way to track her.”
I stood near the dining table, picking up the wet, blue backpack to move it out of the spilled wine.
As I lifted it, the front zipper pocket fell open.
Something white and rectangular slipped out and landed on the floor.
I bent down and picked it up.
It was a piece of stiff, printed cardstock.
I turned it over.
My breath hitched.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered.
Luca turned around.
I held up the piece of paper.
“I think I know where she’s going.”
Luca crossed the room in two strides and took the paper from my hand.
It was a one-way train ticket.
Departing from Union Station to Montreal, Canada.
But it was the timestamp printed at the top corner that made Luca’s face go pale.
Departure Time: 10:15 PM.
Luca looked up at the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the dining room.
May you like
It was 9:42 PM.
TITLE: The Platform in the Rain
