Chapter 3 - THE NAME ON THE ACCOUNT
The basement felt suddenly freezing.
I stared at Rosa, the sounds of chaos upstairs fading into a muffled roar in my ears.
“My name?” I whispered.
Rosa nodded, tears spilling over her wrinkled cheeks.
“Emily Carter. Your name.”
I pulled my hands away from hers, backing up until my shoulders hit the cold stone wall.
“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m a housekeeper. My mother cleans office buildings. We’ve never had more than a few thousand dollars in our lives.”
“I know,” Rosa cried softly. “And it broke Anthony’s heart every day to watch it happen.”
She took a step toward me.
“Emily, your father’s name was Richard Carter. He was an accountant.”
I froze.
My father had died when I was a baby. My mother rarely spoke of him, only saying he had died in a tragic car accident before I was old enough to remember.
“He didn't die in a car accident, did he?” I asked, the dread pooling heavy in my stomach.
Rosa shook her head slowly.
“He worked for Anthony. He was brilliant. He found out the New York families were skimming from the Chicago outfit. He brought the proof to Anthony.”
Rosa wiped a tear from her face.
“But the New York families found out. They demanded Anthony hand Richard over to them.”
I felt sick.
“And he did?”
“He tried not to,” Rosa whispered. “Anthony tried to negotiate. He tried to pay them off. But they threatened Luca. They threatened me.”
She looked down at the dusty stone floor.
“Anthony made a choice to protect his own family. He gave them Richard.”
My legs felt weak. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold floor, pulling my knees to my chest.
The man who had built this massive mansion, the man whose wife I had been pouring coffee for, had handed my father over to be murdered.
“Anthony couldn't live with the guilt,” Rosa continued, her voice echoing softly in the dark space. “He started skimming from the New York families himself. Taking it little by little over twenty years. He built a shadow account. Twenty-two million dollars. He put it in your name, Emily.”
She looked at me, her eyes filled with a desperate plea for forgiveness.
“He meant to give it to you when you turned eighteen. But he died before he could. And he made me swear never to tell Luca, because he knew Luca would try to fight New York if he knew the truth.”
I buried my face in my hands.
The money. The lies. The danger.
All of it was tied to me.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs rattled violently.
Someone was trying to kick it down.
“Rosa!” Luca’s voice shouted from the other side. “Are you down there? Open the door!”
I scrambled to my feet.
Rosa hurried up the stairs and threw the deadbolt.
Luca burst into the stairwell, holding a gun. His tuxedo shirt was torn, and he had a cut across his forehead, but he looked incredibly relieved to see his mother safe.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, pulling her into a tight hug.
“I’m fine,” Rosa said, holding onto him. “Are they gone?”
“For now,” Luca said grimly. “We pushed them back to the gates, but they’ll regroup. We need to leave the house.”
He looked past his mother and saw me standing in the shadows.
“Emily. Thank you. For what you did with the coffee pot. You bought us the time we needed.”
I didn't answer him.
I just stared at him.
He was the son of the man who had killed my father.
Luca frowned, noticing my silence.
“Emily? Are you alright?”
Before I could say anything, Rosa stepped between us.
“Luca, we don't have time. Where is Vanessa?”
Luca’s face darkened instantly.
“She’s secured in the library. She isn't going anywhere until I decide what to do with her.”
He grabbed his mother’s hand.
“We need to get to the safe house downtown. My men are pulling the armored cars around back.”
He looked at me.
“Come on, Emily. We’re taking you with us.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Luca stopped on the stairs.
“What do you mean, no? Dominic’s men saw you hit him. You're a target now. You can't go home.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, my voice shaking but suddenly filled with a cold anger.
Luca stepped down the stairs toward me.
“Emily, this isn't a suggestion. It isn't safe—”
“It’s never been safe!” I shouted, the emotion finally breaking loose. “Not since your father decided my father was expendable!”
Luca froze.
He looked at me, completely confused.
Then he looked at his mother.
Rosa lowered her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
“Ma?” Luca asked softly. “What is she talking about?”
“She knows, Luca,” Rosa whispered. “She knows about Richard Carter. She knows about the account.”
Luca stared at his mother.
The pieces were clicking together in his mind.
He looked back at me.
His dark eyes were wide with a shock that mirrored my own.
“The account...” Luca breathed. “The twenty-two million.”
He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
“It’s yours.”
I wiped a tear from my cheek fiercely.
“I don't want it. I just want to go home to my brother and forget I ever met the Moretti family.”
I pushed past Luca, walking up the stairs into the ruined dining room.
The house was a disaster. Bullet holes shattered the antique mirrors. The front doors were barricaded by heavy furniture.
I walked toward the kitchen, intending to slip out the back service door.
But as I reached the kitchen threshold, I stopped dead in my tracks.
Standing in the center of the kitchen, holding a gun to the head of a terrified Vanessa, was a man I recognized instantly.
He wasn't one of Dominic’s men from New York.
He was my mother’s new landlord.
The man who had bought our apartment building three months ago and graciously lowered our rent.
He smiled at me, a cold, empty smile.
“Hello, Emily,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you to find out the truth.”
May you like
He pulled the hammer back on the gun pressed against Vanessa’s temple.
“Now, be a good girl and give me the secondary code for the deposit box. Or the bride-to-be dies before her wedding day.”
