Chapter 3 - THE BLOOD ON THE APRON
Luca’s command cut through the diner like a knife.
I immediately ran to the front entrance.
I flipped the heavy brass deadbolt and pulled down the 'Closed' shade.
When I turned back, Luca had Adrian pinned to a chair.
He wasn't yelling anymore.
He was speaking with a cold, terrifying calm.
“Who did you send, Adrian?”
Adrian wiped the blood from his mouth.
“Just two men. Professionals. They were supposed to make it look like a robbery.”
“Where did they attack him?”
“At his apartment on 4th Street.”
Luca looked at the broken watch in his hand.
“If they attacked him on 4th Street, how did he get to this diner twenty minutes ago?”
Adrian’s arrogant facade cracked completely.
“I don't know! I swear, Luca. He’s simple-minded. He shouldn't have been able to fight off two armed men.”
Teresa spoke from the booth.
Her voice was frail, but angry.
“He isn't simple-minded when it comes to Mia.”
I walked back behind the counter.
I looked at the spot where the silver watch had been hidden.
Then, I noticed something I had missed in the chaos.
A few drops of dark red blood smeared across the edge of the cash drawer.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said.
Luca looked over.
I pointed at the blood.
“He was hurt badly.”
Luca released his brother and walked behind the counter.
He touched the blood with his thumb.
It was still sticky.
“Mrs. Russo,” Luca said gently. “When Julian came through the back door, did he say anything?”
Teresa shook her head.
“He just opened the register, dropped the watch, and grabbed a first aid kit from the pantry. He looked terrified. Mia was crying.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No. He just kept whispering that he had to keep her safe.”
Luca’s eyes scanned the kitchen.
He walked past the stoves, toward the heavy steel back door leading to the alley.
I followed him.
He pushed the door open.
The alley was quiet, smelling of rain and old garbage.
Luca crouched down.
On the wet pavement, mixed with the puddles, were clear, dark drops of blood.
Leading away from the diner.
Toward the subway station two blocks over.
“He’s on foot,” Luca said.
He stood up and pulled his phone from his pocket.
He dialed a number.
“Marco. I need three cars at Russo's Diner right now. And pull the city camera feeds for the West Side subway entrance.”
He hung up.
Then he looked at me.
“Emily. You know this neighborhood better than I do. Where would a terrified man take a child to hide?”
I thought about it.
“Not a hospital. If Adrian’s men are looking for him, they'll check the emergency rooms.”
“A church?” Luca suggested.
I shook my head.
“Julian is bleeding. A priest would call an ambulance.”
Then I remembered something.
I looked at Teresa.
“Mrs. Russo. Doesn't Julian work part-time at the old community theater down the street? Building sets?”
Teresa gasped.
“Yes! He loves the theater. It's dark on Sundays. It's empty.”
Luca didn't hesitate.
He turned back to the dining room.
He pointed a finger at Adrian.
“If my brother is dead, you're dead.”
He looked at Teresa.
“Stay here. Lock the door behind us.”
Then he looked at me.
“Show me the theater.”
We ran out the back door into the alley.
I didn't care that I was still wearing my waitress uniform.
I didn't care that I was getting involved in a mafia war.
Teresa had treated me like a daughter.
I wasn't going to let Adrian destroy her family.
We followed the blood drops for a block until they faded into the wet pavement.
The old community theater was a massive, brick building with a faded marquee.
The front doors were chained shut.
“The loading dock,” I said, pointing toward the side alley.
We hurried to the heavy metal delivery door.
It was slightly ajar.
And on the brass handle was a smear of fresh blood.
Luca pulled his gun.
He pushed me gently behind him.
“Stay close to me, Emily. Don't make a sound.”
We stepped into the dark, cavernous backstage area.
It smelled like dust, old paint, and pine wood.
Shadows stretched across the high ceilings, cast by the single emergency light above the exit.
“Julian?” Luca whispered.
No answer.
We moved slowly through the props, past racks of old costumes.
Then, I heard it.
A very quiet, muffled sound.
Someone was crying.
It was coming from beneath the main stage.
Luca pointed his gun toward the floorboards.
We crept down the narrow wooden stairs into the dark space beneath the stage.
Huddled in the corner, clutching a heavy iron wrench, was a man.
He was large, with broad shoulders and dark hair, just like Luca.
But his face was pale, sweating, and contorted in pain.
His left arm was soaked in blood.
Tucked securely behind him, her face buried in his back, was a little girl with dark curls.
Mia.
“Julian,” Luca said softly, lowering his weapon.
Julian flinched, raising the wrench.
“Don't come closer!” he shouted.
His voice was deep, but it trembled with an innocence that broke my heart.
“Adrian said you were coming! Adrian said you wanted the necklace!”
Luca froze.
“What?”
Julian pressed himself tighter into the corner, shielding Mia.
“Adrian’s men told me! They said the new boss sent them! They said Luca wanted me dead!”
I stared at Luca.
Adrian hadn't just sent assassins.
He had told Julian that Luca ordered the hit.
He was trying to make Julian hate the only brother who could save him.
Luca dropped his gun onto the dusty floor.
He held his empty hands up.
“Julian. Look at me.”
“You want to hurt Mia!”
“I don't even know Mia,” Luca said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I didn't know you existed until twenty minutes ago.”
Julian blinked, confused.
“You didn't?”
“No.”
Luca took a slow step forward.
“Our father hid you. He paid Adrian to protect you. Adrian lied to both of us.”
Julian lowered the wrench slightly.
But before he could speak, a heavy wooden plank creaked loudly on the stage directly above our heads.
Footsteps.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps.
And then, a cold, mocking voice echoed through the dark theater.
“Well, this is a touching family reunion.”
Luca looked up.
May you like
The voice didn't belong to Adrian.
It belonged to a man standing at the top of the stairs, holding an assault rifle pointed directly down at us.
