Chapter 4 - THE TICKET
The sound of the steel door slamming echoed in the small, underground room like a gunshot.
Marco instantly threw himself against the heavy metal, but it didn't budge. We heard the distinct, heavy clack of a deadbolt sliding into place from the outside.
We were locked in.
Luca didn't panic. He immediately turned his flashlight toward the edges of the door, checking the hinges.
“It’s reinforced steel,” Marco grunted, pushing his massive shoulder against it again. “It opens inward. We can't kick it down.”
I backed away, bumping into the empty medical bed. My breathing turned rapid and shallow.
My father’s basement. A hidden room. My dead sister. My six-year-old niece.
None of it made sense. None of it felt real.
“Who closed the door?” I panicked, my voice echoing off the concrete walls. “My dad is upstairs, but he’s paralyzed! My mom can't walk down those stairs without help!”
Luca ignored my panic. His mind was working at terrifying speed, processing the survival of his missing brother, the existence of a niece he never knew, and the immediate threat trapping us.
“Someone followed us from Chicago,” Luca said, his voice deathly calm. “Or someone was already here, waiting for us to find the room.”
He swept the flashlight across the small space.
“Search it,” Luca ordered Marco. “Everything. Walls, mattress, refrigerator. If Daniel was here, he left something behind.”
Marco immediately started tearing the bed apart.
I stood frozen, staring at the child’s drawing on the table. Uncle Danny.
“Emma,” Luca said, stepping into my line of sight. He placed his hands on my shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding me. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes up to his.
“I know you are terrified,” Luca said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “But I need you to think. If Daniel was married to your sister, your father knew who Daniel was. He built this room to hide him. Why would a clockmaker hide the heir to the Moretti syndicate?”
“I don't know,” I sobbed. “My parents told me Sarah died in a crash. They never talked about her husband. They just took Lily in and raised her. They told me her father abandoned them.”
“Because someone was hunting him,” Luca concluded. “Someone so dangerous that Daniel chose to live in a windowless room for eight years to protect his daughter.”
“Boss,” Marco called out.
Luca turned.
Marco had opened the small refrigerator. It was completely empty, except for a small, clear plastic container resting on the bottom shelf.
Marco pulled it out.
Inside the container was a single, vintage train ticket.
Luca took the container and popped the lid off. He pulled the ticket out, shining the flashlight directly on it.
It was yellowed with age.
Union Station, Chicago to Montreal, Canada.
The date stamped on it was tomorrow.
Luca stared at the ticket. The realization hit him so hard he actually took a step back.
“He’s alive,” Luca whispered, a profound mix of relief and terror washing over his face. “Daniel is alive. And he’s running.”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “He’s going to Canada? Tomorrow?”
“Not just him,” Luca said, turning the ticket over.
On the back, written in hurried blue ink, were two words: Bring Lily.
My heart stopped.
“Lily?” I gasped. “He wants to take Lily?”
“He’s her father,” Luca said. “If he’s finally making a run for the border, he’s not leaving his daughter behind.”
A new wave of horror crashed over me.
Lily lived upstairs with my parents. She slept in the small bedroom next to the kitchen.
If Daniel was coming to get her... or if whoever locked us in this room was going to get her first...
“We have to get out of here!” I screamed, running to the steel door and beating my fists against the cold metal. “My mother and Lily are upstairs! They’re in danger!”
Luca didn't waste time trying to calm me down. He looked at the walls.
“There has to be ventilation,” Luca said. “A man can't live in a sealed box for eight years. There’s an air intake.”
He swept the flashlight up toward the ceiling.
In the far corner, near the old iron pipes of the shop’s plumbing, was a square metal grate.
“Marco,” Luca ordered.
Marco didn't need to be told twice. He dragged the heavy medical bed over to the corner. He climbed onto the mattress, reaching up to the grate. He gripped the metal slats and pulled with a guttural roar.
The grate tore out of the drywall with a screech of rusted screws.
A rush of cold, dusty air blew into the room.
“It’s a maintenance shaft,” Marco said, shining his light into the hole. “It leads up to the floorboards of the shop.”
“Go,” Luca said.
Marco pulled himself up into the shaft, his massive frame barely fitting. He disappeared into the darkness. We heard the sounds of him shimmying upward, followed by a loud, splintering crash as he kicked out the floorboards above.
A moment later, the heavy steel door of the hidden room clicked open from the outside.
Marco stood in the dark corridor, his suit covered in dust.
“Clear,” Marco said.
Luca grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
We ran out of the hidden room, past the grandfather clock, and up the basement stairs. We burst into the clock shop.
The front door, which I had locked behind us, was wide open. The glass was shattered.
“Mom!” I screamed, sprinting toward the back staircase that led to the apartment.
Luca was right behind me, his weapon drawn.
I took the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning. I threw open the apartment door.
The living room was in chaos.
Lamps were overturned. Drawers were pulled out.
My father was lying in his medical bed, his eyes wide with absolute terror, unable to speak or move his right side. His left hand was clutching the bedsheet in a death grip.
My mother was sitting on the floor next to him, clutching her arm. There was a nasty bruise forming on her cheek.
“Mom!” I cried, dropping to my knees beside her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
My mother looked at me, her eyes wild with panic. Then she looked at Luca standing in the doorway with a gun.
She didn't look surprised to see a mafia boss in her living room.
She looked guilty.
“Emma,” my mother sobbed, grabbing my shirt. “They took her.”
My blood ran completely cold.
“Who?” I begged. “Who took Lily?”
My mother looked at Luca.
“The woman,” my mother wept. “The woman with the red dress. She said if Daniel wants his daughter back, he has to bring the ledger to the wedding.”
Vanessa.
Vanessa had followed us. She had waited for us to go into the basement, locked us in, and stolen a six-year-old child.
Luca lowered his gun. His face was a mask of pure, lethal fury.
“Vanessa doesn't just want Daniel’s watch,” Luca said softly. His voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of the ocean. “She wants Daniel.”
I looked at my mother. “Mom, why? Why did you hide him? Why didn't you tell me?”
My mother touched her bruised cheek.
“Because Daniel didn't run away eight years ago to hide from a rival family,” my mother confessed, her voice breaking.
She looked directly at Luca.
“He ran away to hide from his own.”
A reversal that shattered everything Luca Moretti believed.
“What are you talking about?” Luca demanded, stepping into the room.
“Daniel told us,” my mother wept. “The night he came to us, bleeding and broken. He said someone in the Moretti family was trying to kill him. Someone who wanted the syndicate for themselves.”
Luca stood completely still.
“Who?” Luca asked.
My mother shook her head. “He didn't know. But he knew they would never stop hunting him. So my husband built the room. We hid him. To protect Sarah, and to protect Lily.”
Luca looked at the train ticket in his hand.
“Daniel is making a play,” Luca realized. “He left the hidden room because he finally found proof of who tried to kill him. That’s why Vanessa took the child. She’s trying to flush him out before he can show me.”
Suddenly, the burner phone we had taken from the scarred delivery man—which was sitting in Luca’s pocket—began to ring.
The shrill, cheap ringtone pierced the quiet apartment.
Luca pulled it out. He answered it and put it on speaker.
“Luca,” Vanessa’s voice purred through the small speaker.
“If you harm one hair on that little girl’s head,” Luca said, his voice completely devoid of emotion, “I will peel the skin from your bones.”
Vanessa laughed. A cold, arrogant sound.
“So dramatic, darling. Don't worry. The brat is perfectly safe. For now.”
“What do you want, Vanessa?”
“I don't want you, Luca. I want your brother. I know he’s listening. Tell Daniel that if he wants to see his sweet little Lily again, he needs to bring me what he stole from my father’s safe eight years ago.”
May you like
Vanessa paused, her voice dripping with venom.
“Tell him to bring the rosary.”
