Chapter 5 - THE TICKET
Luca fell to his knees on the concrete floor.
He stared at the little boy. The resemblance was undeniable. The same dark hair, the same jawline. But it wasn't Luca's face the boy shared.
It was his older brother's.
"Marco?" Luca choked out.
Marco Romano had been murdered seven years ago. A drive-by shooting that nearly tore Chicago apart. He had died without a wife, without an heir.
Or so everyone thought.
Sofia walked over and pulled Leo behind her legs. "Marco found me six and a half years ago. He was the only one who never stopped looking for me. We spent three days together in hiding. When he left, he gave me this."
She reached into Leo's pocket and pulled out a faded, torn piece of paper.
A train ticket. Dated seven years ago.
"He told me to run to Montreal," Sofia said, tears shining in her eyes. "He said he would follow me in a week, once he handled Father. But he never made it."
"Vitiello killed Marco," Luca said, his voice completely hollow.
"No, Luca," Sofia said softly. "Vitiello didn't kill Marco. Frank did. On Father's orders."
My stomach turned over. Frank. The head of security. The man who had been at Luca's side for a decade.
"Frank found out about Leo," Sofia continued. "He realized that if Marco took over the family, Frank would lose his power. So they eliminated Marco. And now, Frank is poisoning you, slowly, so he can step in as acting boss when you're incapacitated."
"The pharmacy footage," I said, suddenly realizing the truth. "Frank showed us the footage of you returning the patch. He was using it to frame you for the poisoning."
"Exactly," Sofia said. "He wanted you to find the patches, Rebecca. He wanted Luca to blame Elena, tearing the family apart from the inside. Then Frank would swoop in, play the loyal soldier, and hand the remains to Vitiello."
Luca stood up slowly. The shock on his face had been replaced by a rage so cold it dropped the temperature in the room.
"Where is Elena?" he asked.
"I told you," Sofia said. "She's locked in the cellar. It's the only place Frank's men don't know about."
Suddenly, the heavy metal door of the warehouse screeched in protest.
We all spun around.
The security monitors lining the wall flickered and went dark.
"They cut the cameras," one of Luca's guards yelled, racking his rifle.
"Get to the back room," Luca ordered, shoving me toward Sofia and Leo. "Now!"
We ran. I grabbed Teresa's arm, pulling the older woman along. We bolted into the cramped back office, locking the heavy steel door behind us.
Outside, the first gunshots rang out. Deafening, concussive blasts that shook the walls.
Leo covered his ears and began to cry. Sofia pulled him under a heavy oak desk, wrapping her body around his.
I opened my medical bag, my hands shaking so badly I dropped a vial of epinephrine.
"Rebecca," Teresa whispered.
I looked up.
Teresa wasn't looking at the door. She was looking at her own purse. It was open.
Inside, sitting on top of her wallet, was a fresh, unpeeled flesh-colored patch.
Teresa looked at me, her eyes wide with terror. "He slipped it in my bag."
Before I could ask who, a deafening explosion ripped through the front of the warehouse. The steel door of our office buckled inward.
And through the smoke, Frank walked in, holding a suppressed pistol.
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But he didn't aim it at Luca.
He aimed it directly at Teresa.
