Chapter 6 - THE CONFESSION
“Don’t move,” Frank ordered, keeping the barrel perfectly steady on Teresa’s chest.
The gunfire in the outer warehouse had stopped. Luca’s guards were dead. We were completely trapped in the small back office.
Luca stood slowly from behind a filing cabinet, his hands raised. “Frank. You want me. Let my mother and the nurse go.”
“I don’t want you, Luca,” Frank said, his voice unnervingly calm. “You’re already dead. Your heart is failing as we speak. I just need to tie up the loose ends.”
He glanced at Sofia and the boy under the desk. “Hello, Sofia. You were much harder to track down than your brother.”
“You killed Marco,” Sofia spat, her eyes blazing.
“It was business,” Frank replied. He reached into his jacket with his free hand and tossed a small object onto the floor.
A folded photograph.
It landed near my shoes. I looked down. It was a picture of Frank, shaking hands with a man I recognized from the evening news. Don Vitiello.
“You’ve been working for them the whole time,” Luca said, coughing heavily. He leaned against the wall, clutching his chest. The withdrawal from the patches was hitting him hard. His skin was gray.
“Vitiello pays better,” Frank shrugged. “And he doesn’t have a conscience. Your father was weak. You are weak. Vitiello wants the ports, and I’m going to give them to him.”
Frank cocked the pistol. “But first, Teresa takes the fall. She poisoned her own son to protect her secret grandchild. Tragic family drama. The cops will eat it up.”
“No!” I shouted. I grabbed the heavy oxygen tank from my medical bag and swung it as hard as I could.
The heavy metal cylinder slammed into Frank’s wrist just as he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot deafened me. The bullet shattered the window above Teresa’s head.
Frank roared in pain, dropping the gun. Luca launched himself forward, tackling Frank to the ground.
“Run!” Luca screamed, wrestling with the larger man.
Sofia grabbed Leo’s hand and pulled him toward the shattered window. “Rebecca, come on!”
I scrambled backward, but my eyes locked on Luca. He was losing. His heart couldn’t take the strain. Frank drove an elbow into Luca’s jaw, throwing him off.
Frank scrambled for the gun.
Suddenly, the roar of an engine echoed outside.
Headlights flooded through the broken window, blinding us.
A massive black SUV smashed straight through the outer wall of the warehouse, tearing through the metal siding like tissue paper. It slammed into the office door, crushing the frame and sending debris flying.
Frank dove out of the way, the gun skittering across the floor.
The SUV threw it in reverse, clearing a path. The driver's door kicked open.
It was Elena. The real Elena.
She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, her silk dress torn, but she held a heavy revolver in her shaking hands.
“Get in!” she screamed.
Sofia stared at her twin sister, frozen.
“I said get in!” Elena yelled, firing a warning shot into the ceiling.
We scrambled through the broken window. I shoved Teresa in first, then Sofia and Leo. I turned back for Luca.
He was staggering toward the window, but Frank had recovered the gun.
“Luca, down!” I screamed.
Frank aimed at Luca’s back.
But before he could fire, Elena turned the revolver and pulled the trigger twice.
Frank collapsed.
Luca vaulted through the window, collapsing into the backseat.
Elena slammed on the gas, and the SUV tore out into the Chicago night.
As we sped away, Sofia reached across the bloodstained seat and grabbed Elena’s hand.
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Elena looked down. Pressed into her palm was a heavy gold ring with a ruby crest. The Romano family heirloom.
“Marco gave it to me,” Sofia whispered. “He said it belonged to the one who saved the family.”
