Chapter 4 - THE GHOST OF THE MORETTI FAMILY
The rain hammered against the glass roof of the train station.
Luca stood frozen, his thumb tracing the clumsy crayon letters.
Love, Leo.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the storm. “Maybe it’s a cousin? A nickname?”
Luca shook his head, his eyes glued to the paper.
“My father never stopped mourning them. He told me the baby was a boy. He was going to name him Leonardo.”
Luca turned the drawing over.
On the back was a single line of his father’s handwriting, dated the week before his death.
I found him. Vincent took him.
The words hit like a physical blow.
“Vincent Bellini stole your brother?” My mind was racing, trying to comprehend the sheer evil of it. “Why? Why would he take a newborn baby?”
“Leverage,” Luca said, his voice turning to steel. “If Vincent raised the true Moretti heir in secret, he could use him to control my father. And when my father found out the truth…”
“Vincent had him killed,” I finished, a cold shudder running down my spine.
Luca’s grip on the child’s drawing tightened until his knuckles turned white.
He picked up the silver charm bracelet from the locker.
It had three charms: a heart, a cross, and a tiny silver bear.
“This was my mother’s,” Luca whispered. “She wore it to the hospital the night she went into labor.”
He carefully put the bracelet and the drawing into his coat pocket.
“If Leo was alive when my father died,” Luca said, his eyes darkening with a dangerous intensity, “then he’s twenty-two years old now. And he’s out there.”
“But where do we even start looking?” I asked.
Before Luca could answer, his cell phone vibrated.
He pulled it out.
The caller ID said MARCO - MANSION.
Luca answered it on speaker.
“Marco, is Rosa secure?”
“Boss, we have a problem,” Marco’s voice was strained, breathless. “Vanessa didn't leave the estate. She doubled back to the east wing.”
“What?” Luca snapped. “I told you to throw her out!”
“She had her father’s men waiting in the perimeter trees. They ambushed us at the gates.” The sound of shattering glass echoed through the phone. “They breached the first floor. They’re looking for Rosa.”
Panic flared in my chest.
Rosa was an old woman. She couldn't defend herself against mafia enforcers.
“Hold them off!” Luca shouted, sprinting toward the exit of the station. “I’m five minutes away.”
“Boss, they don’t just want Rosa.”
Marco paused.
“They’re asking for Emma.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
The cold station floor felt like it was shifting beneath my feet.
“Me?” I breathed. “Why me?”
“Don’t let them near the study,” Luca ordered, ignoring my question. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the SUV.
We drove back to the estate at terrifying speeds.
The iron gates of the mansion were smashed open. Two of Luca’s security SUVs were on fire in the driveway.
Luca pulled out a black handgun from the glove compartment.
He looked at me, his expression harder than I had ever seen it.
“Stay in the car. Keep the doors locked. If anyone besides me taps on this glass, you drive through the hedges and don’t look back.”
“Luca, they want me,” I said, my hands shaking. “Why do they want me?”
“Because Vanessa knows you’re the one who found Rosa,” Luca said. “She’s trying to eliminate the witnesses.”
He stepped out into the rain and ran toward the front doors.
I sat in the dark car, the sound of the storm deafening.
My chest ached. I had spent my life keeping my head down, scrubbing floors, paying off my late mother’s medical bills. Now I was caught in the middle of a mafia war.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
No gunshots. No shouting. Just the eerie glow of the burning SUVs.
I couldn't just sit there.
Rosa was the only person in this house who had ever treated me with kindness. She used to sneak me fresh pastries when I was working late.
I unbuckled my seatbelt.
I slipped out of the car, staying low in the shadows of the manicured hedges.
I made my way to the side servant’s entrance. The door was ajar.
I crept inside. The hallway was dark, the power intentionally cut.
I heard voices coming from the grand library.
I pressed my back against the wall and inched toward the open double doors.
Inside the library, lit only by the fireplace, were four armed men.
Marco was on his knees, bleeding from a cut on his head.
Luca was standing in the center of the room, his gun lowered, his hands raised in a forced surrender.
And sitting in the leather armchair by the fire, holding the wooden box, was Vincent Bellini.
He was an older man, leaning heavily on a cane, his face scarred and deeply lined.
But it wasn't Vincent that made my blood run cold.
It was the boy standing beside him.
He looked about twenty years old. Dark hair, sharp jawline.
He had Luca’s eyes.
Vincent smiled, a terrible, thin-lipped grin.
“Hello, Luciano,” Vincent rasped. “I believe it’s time you properly met your brother, Leo.”
Leo stepped forward.
He didn't look like a captive.
May you like
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a pistol, and pointed it directly at Luca’s chest.
TITLE: The Brother in the Shadows
