Chapter 6 - THE POCKET WATCH
I stared at the antique pocket watch in the velvet box.
The gold was tarnished, the glass face slightly cracked.
“Vanessa had this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “But if it belonged to the murdered Falcone boss… why would she hide it in her wedding dress?”
Luca kept his eyes on the dark road, the sports car weaving effortlessly through the midnight traffic.
“Because it’s a trophy,” Luca said, his voice laced with a dangerous anger. “Ten years ago, my father was blamed for the Falcone boss’s murder. It started a war that killed a dozen men. But my father swore on his deathbed he didn’t pull the trigger.”
“Who did?”
Luca glanced at me, his dark eyes flashing in the passing streetlights.
“I thought it was a rival faction. But if Vanessa has the watch… it means the Falcones didn’t just hire her to steal my money.”
I swallowed hard, the pieces finally clicking together.
“They hired her because she’s the one who killed him,” I realized. “She’s an assassin.”
“The Black Widow,” Luca murmured. “It was a rumor in the underworld. A woman who married targets, drained their accounts, and left them dead. I thought it was a myth. But Christopher wasn’t her first husband, Laura. He was just the only one who survived.”
My stomach churned. I had steamed her dresses. I had poured her champagne. I had been in a room alone with a serial killer.
“Why didn’t she just kill you before the wedding?” I asked.
“Because without the marriage certificate, the estate defaults to the commission. She needed the wedding tomorrow. And she needed my mother’s bracelet.”
He looked at my left wrist.
“Which means you are the only thing standing between her and a billion-dollar empire.”
The sports car descended into an underground parking garage beneath a massive glass skyscraper. The Moretti corporate headquarters.
Luca badged us through three security gates before pulling into a private, caged VIP spot.
He popped the trunk.
Christopher climbed out, looking pale and terrified.
“We have three hours until sunrise,” Luca said, leading us toward a private elevator. “Vanessa thinks you’re dead, Laura. She thinks her hitmen took care of you at the safehouse. We are going to let her believe that.”
“And Daniel?” Christopher asked.
“Daniel is currently tied to a chair in a soundproof room on the 40th floor,” Luca said without breaking stride. “He is going to tell us exactly where the Falcones are holding your son.”
We rode the elevator up in silence.
When the doors opened, we stepped into a massive, hyper-modern penthouse office. The entire back wall was floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the Chicago skyline.
Standing in the center of the room, flanked by four of Luca’s most trusted, heavily armed men, was Daniel.
He was strapped to a steel chair, his face bruised, his lip bleeding.
When Daniel saw me walk in behind Luca, his eyes widened in shock.
“She’s alive,” Daniel breathed.
Luca took off his tactical vest and tossed it onto a glass desk. He walked slowly toward his former head of security.
“You sold me out, Dan,” Luca said softly. The heartbreak in his voice was worse than anger. “Ten years we fought side by side. You were my brother.”
Daniel looked down at his bound hands.
“I didn’t have a choice, Boss. They took my daughter.”
Luca stopped.
I gasped, pressing my hand to my mouth.
“The Falcones kidnapped Mia?” Luca asked, his voice tightening.
Daniel nodded, tears tracking through the blood on his face. “Two weeks ago. They snatched her off her college campus. They said if I didn’t help Vanessa maneuver you into the marriage, they’d send Mia back to me in pieces.”
Daniel looked up, his eyes filled with desperate agony.
“I’m sorry, Luca. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let my little girl die.”
The room was dead silent.
I looked at Luca. The mafia boss who had just shot two men in an alley without blinking was suddenly completely still.
He understood family. He understood loyalty. And he understood that Daniel hadn’t betrayed him for money. He had done it for love.
Luca turned to Christopher.
“Your son, Leo. And Daniel’s daughter, Mia. Are they holding them in the same place?”
Daniel answered. “Yes. The old meatpacking plant on the south side. The Falcones have a fortified bunker underneath it.”
Luca walked to the glass desk and picked up a heavy tactical knife.
He walked back to Daniel.
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the execution.
Instead, Luca cut the zip ties around Daniel’s wrists.
Daniel opened his eyes, stunned.
“Boss?”
“You should have come to me,” Luca said fiercely, pulling Daniel to his feet. “We don’t betray each other. We kill the monsters who threaten our children.”
Luca turned to his men.
“Arm up. We’re hitting the meatpacking plant. We bring the kids home tonight.”
Christopher stepped forward. “I’m coming with you.”
Luca shook his head. “You don’t know how to shoot, Christopher. You’d be a liability.”
“He’s my son!” Christopher yelled, his mild manners breaking completely.
“And I will bring him back,” Luca swore.
Luca turned to me.
“Laura. Stay here. Lock the penthouse doors. Do not answer the phone.”
“Luca, wait,” I said, stepping forward.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, crinkled piece of paper.
The child’s drawing I had found in the safehouse bathroom.
“I didn’t know why this was in the safehouse,” I said, handing it to Luca. “But if Daniel set up that safehouse... he must have brought it.”
Luca looked at Daniel.
Daniel nodded. “Mia drew it when she was little. I keep it in my wallet. I dropped it to leave a clue, hoping someone would realize I was being coerced.”
Luca looked at the drawing. Then he turned the paper over.
On the back, written in faint pencil, were six numbers.
A security code.
“That’s the access code to the Falcone bunker,” Daniel said softly.
Luca looked at me. His eyes were burning with a fierce, protective intensity.
“You saved us,” Luca whispered.
Before he could say anything else, the massive flat-screen television on the office wall suddenly flickered to life.
It wasn’t a news broadcast. It was a live video feed.
Sitting in a pristine white bridal suite, wearing a silk robe and sipping champagne, was Vanessa.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Hello, Luca,” Vanessa smiled, her voice echoing through the penthouse. “I see you survived the night. How romantic.”
Luca’s jaw clenched. “Vanessa.”
“I know you’re planning a rescue mission right now,” she said, taking a delicate sip of her drink. “But you’re too late.”
She shifted the camera.
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Sitting on a sofa behind her, bound and gagged, were a terrified college-aged girl and a weeping seven-year-old boy.
“If you don’t show up at the cathedral in exactly four hours to say ‘I do,’” Vanessa smiled, pulling a silver pistol from her lap. “I’m going to ruin my perfect wedding dress with their blood.”
