Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR IN THE HALLWAY
The silence in the narrow hallway was deafening.
Luca slowly stood up. He didn’t turn around immediately. He kept his eyes fixed on the gold bracelet with the crescent moon charm.
Marcus, the head of security, the man who had eaten dinner at Luca’s table for eight years, took a slow step backward.
“Boss,” Marcus said, his voice tight. “The kid is confused. I didn’t buy that.”
“Isabella has a photographic memory,” Luca said quietly, his back still turned. “She remembers the color of the tie I wore on her third birthday. She doesn’t get confused.”
Answer One: Bianca wasn’t the one who poisoned Clara. Marcus was.
Luca turned around.
His gun was already aimed directly at Marcus’s chest.
“Hands where I can see them, Marcus,” Luca ordered, his voice echoing with absolute authority.
Marcus slowly raised his hands. His face was pale, glistening with a sudden layer of sweat.
“Luca, listen to me,” Marcus pleaded. “Bianca set this up. She planted that bracelet in the wall. She’s trying to frame me because I found out about her debt to Victor!”
“Shut your mouth,” Luca snarled.
He stepped closer, pressing the barrel of the gun against Marcus’s suit jacket.
“Bianca didn’t know about Room 404,” Luca said. “But you did. You conduct the security sweeps. You have keys to every door in this house.”
Open Two: If Marcus poisoned Clara, what was his motive? He was fiercely loyal to Luca.
Victor Vance chuckled from the doorway.
“The loyal dog finally bit the master,” Victor said. “I always wondered how long it would take.”
“Why?” Luca asked, his voice shaking with betrayed grief. “I trusted you with my life. I trusted you with my family. Why did you kill my wife?”
Marcus’s eyes darted toward the stairs.
“Because she was going to destroy everything we built, Luca!” Marcus shouted, his panic breaking through. “She found the offshore accounts! She was going to hand the financial ledgers over to the feds!”
I gasped, pulling Isabella closer to me.
“Clara wasn’t a rat,” Luca said, his finger tightening on the trigger.
“She wasn’t doing it to hurt you,” Marcus argued desperately. “She was doing it to force you out of the life! She thought if the empire collapsed, you’d have to walk away and take her and Isabella somewhere safe. But if she gave those ledgers to the FBI, the rival families would have slaughtered us all. I had to stop her, Luca. I did it to protect the family!”
Reversal: Marcus didn’t kill Clara out of greed. He killed her out of a twisted sense of loyalty to the mob empire.
Luca stared at the man he had called a brother.
The pain in Luca’s eyes was devastating. To learn that your wife was murdered, not by an enemy, but by your best friend, to save the very criminal life you were trapped in.
“Where is the evidence Clara hid?” Luca demanded. “Where are the ledgers?”
“I burned them,” Marcus said, lowering his hands slightly. “Two years ago. The day she died. It’s over, Luca. You can’t prove anything.”
“I don’t need a courtroom to prove anything,” Luca whispered.
He prepared to pull the trigger.
But before the gunshot could ring out, a terrifying sound echoed from the floor below.
The sound of shattering glass.
Followed immediately by a woman’s blood-curdling scream.
It was one of the dinner guests.
Marcus took advantage of the distraction. He lunged forward, not at Luca, but at me.
He grabbed my arm, violently yanking me forward, and shoved me directly into Luca.
We crashed to the floor, Luca’s gun skittering across the hardwood.
Marcus didn’t run for the stairs.
He turned and bolted toward the fire escape window at the end of the hall.
Victor pulled a weapon from his trench coat and fired, but Marcus shattered the glass and threw himself out into the rainy night.
Luca scrambled to his feet, grabbing his gun.
“Are you hurt?” he asked me, his chest heaving.
“No,” I gasped, clutching Isabella. “I’m okay.”
“Stay here with Victor,” Luca ordered.
He sprinted down the hallway, heading for the main stairs to see what had caused the scream.
Victor looked at me, his scarred face grim.
“You’re a brave girl, Emma,” Victor said softly. “But Marcus was lying about one thing.”
I looked up at him, trembling. “What?”
Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.
“He didn’t burn the ledgers,” Victor said.
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