Chapter 7 - THE FAMILY HEIRLOOM
The walk to the boathouse felt like a march to my own execution.
The rain had turned into a torrential downpour, turning the sprawling lawns of the DeLuca estate into a dark, muddy swamp. The lake crashed against the wooden docks, violent and black.
I clutched the emerald necklace in my hand, the gold chain cutting into my palm.
I reached the wooden double doors of the boathouse. The inside was dimly lit by a single hanging bulb. A sleek, mahogany speedboat bobbed in the water slip.
Standing on the wooden platform, holding my terrified son by the shoulder, was Julian.
He looked older than the photograph. Harder. He wore a dark waterproof jacket, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He looked so much like Dominic it made my stomach turn, but his eyes were completely empty.
“Mommy!” Leo cried out, trying to run to me.
Julian yanked him back. “Not yet, buddy.”
“Let him go, Michael,” I yelled over the sound of the rain. “Or Julian. Whatever your name is. I have what you want.”
Julian smiled. It was a cold, practiced expression.
“You look beautiful, Hannah. You haven't changed at all.”
“Don't you dare talk to me like that. You abandoned us.”
“I left to protect you,” Julian said smoothly. “The family is dangerous. I had to fake my death to get away from them.”
“You faked your death to steal your father’s empire!” I shouted, holding up the necklace. “You watched him burn in that car!”
Julian’s smile vanished. His face twisted into something ugly and cruel.
“My father was a weak old man,” Julian spat. “He wanted to take the family legitimate. He was going to give the ledger to the Feds in exchange for amnesty. He would have ruined us. I just made sure the accident happened before he could.”
I felt a wave of nausea. He didn't just watch his father die. He orchestrated it.
“Throw me the necklace, Hannah.”
“Let Leo walk to me first.”
Julian pulled a small handgun from his jacket and pressed it against Leo’s small back.
“Throw it. Now.”
My hands shook violently. I looked into the dark corners of the boathouse, praying Dominic was there.
I tossed the necklace.
It landed on the wooden planks with a soft clatter.
Julian kept his gun aimed at us as he knelt and picked it up. He pressed the clasp. The emerald popped open, revealing the microfilm.
A triumphant laugh escaped his lips.
“Twelve years,” Julian whispered. “Twelve years living like a rat, and now I own the city.”
He looked up at me.
“You know, I really did like you, Hannah. You made good coffee.”
He raised the gun, aiming it squarely at my chest.
“Drop!” a voice roared from the rafters.
I threw myself to the floor, dragging Leo down with me.
A gunshot deafened me. But it didn't come from Julian’s gun.
Julian stumbled backward, dropping his weapon as a bullet shattered his shoulder. He fell against the side of the mahogany speedboat.
Dominic dropped from the upper loft of the boathouse, landing heavily on the wooden planks. His gun was locked onto his brother.
“Julian,” Dominic said, his voice laced with twelve years of grief and rage.
Julian clutched his bleeding shoulder, staring at his older brother. A sick, desperate smile spread across his face.
“Hello, Dom. Miss me?”
Dominic stepped closer. “You killed our father. You let our mother grieve a child who was never dead. And you used Victoria to infiltrate my home.”
“Victoria was easy,” Julian laughed, spitting blood onto the floor. “She was so desperate to be rich, she didn't care who she had to betray.”
“Where is the money, Julian?”
“It's all on the film. Billions. And it's mine.”
Julian suddenly lunged into the boat, his good hand reaching for the ignition. The engine roared to life.
Dominic didn't hesitate. He fired twice.
The bullets hit the engine block. Sparks showered the back of the boat. The engine choked, sputtered, and died.
Julian was trapped.
He looked at the dark water, then at his brother.
“You won't kill me, Dom,” Julian sneered. “I’m your brother. You're too loyal to the blood.”
Dominic walked to the edge of the dock. He looked down at the man who had destroyed their family.
“You stopped being my brother twelve years ago,” Dominic said.
Before Dominic could pull the trigger, the boathouse doors burst open.
Victoria rushed in, drenched and frantic. She had a heavy iron candlestick in her hand, clearly stolen from the wine cellar she had escaped from.
She didn't look at Dominic. She didn't look at me.
She looked straight at Julian.
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“You lied to me!” Victoria screamed.
She threw herself at the boat, swinging the heavy iron candlestick directly at Julian’s head.
