Chapter 4 - THE LANDLORD'S SECRET
I stared at the man holding the gun to Vanessa’s head.
Mr. Peterson.
For three months, he had been the kind, elderly landlord who occasionally brought fresh fruit to my mother and never complained if the rent was a few days late.
Now, he looked like a completely different person.
The stoop in his shoulders was gone. The gentle smile was replaced by a hard, calculating stare.
“Mr. Peterson?” I breathed, my mind spinning.
“That’s the name I gave your mother, yes,” he said smoothly. “My employers prefer I use aliases when doing surveillance.”
He was from New York.
He hadn't bought our building out of kindness. He had bought it to watch me.
Vanessa was whimpering, tears streaming down her perfect face, her expensive dress ruined by the scuffle.
“Please,” she sobbed, looking at me. “Emily, tell him. Tell him the code.”
I stepped back, my hands trembling.
“I don't know the code,” I said.
Mr. Peterson laughed. A dry, humorless sound.
“Don't lie to me, Emily. Dominic is an impatient man, but I have been watching you for months. I know you’re the key. Anthony Moretti was a sentimental fool. He named the account after you.”
Behind me, I heard footsteps.
Luca stepped into the kitchen, his gun raised, Rosa close behind him.
When Luca saw Mr. Peterson holding Vanessa, he froze.
“Let her go,” Luca commanded, his voice tight.
Mr. Peterson didn't flinch.
“Ah, Luca. The grieving son. You must be very disappointed in your fiancée. To think she was willing to sell out your mother for a cut of New York’s money.”
Luca’s eyes flicked to Vanessa.
There was no love left in his gaze. Only a cold, detached fury.
“I don't care about Vanessa,” Luca said flatly. “She made her choice.”
Vanessa let out a strangled cry.
“Luca! You can't let him kill me!”
“You brought them into my house,” Luca said, his voice deadly calm. “You threatened my mother. You are not my family.”
Mr. Peterson chuckled.
“Cold. Just like your father. But I’m not here for domestic disputes. I want the code to the deposit box.”
He pressed the gun harder against Vanessa’s head.
“Emily. The code.”
I looked at Luca.
He gave me a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Don't tell him.
“I don't know it,” I repeated, my voice stronger this time.
Mr. Peterson’s smile vanished.
“Wrong answer.”
He didn't shoot Vanessa.
Instead, he pulled a small, black radio from his pocket and pressed the button.
“Bring him in,” Peterson ordered into the radio.
The back door of the kitchen swung open.
Two of Dominic’s men walked in.
Between them, struggling and bruised, was my seventeen-year-old brother, Sam.
“Sam!” I screamed, lunging forward.
One of the men shoved Sam hard to his knees on the tile floor, pressing a gun to the back of his neck.
“Emily!” Sam yelled, his face pale with terror. “What’s happening? They broke into the apartment!”
My heart shattered.
I had tried to keep him out of this world. I had scrubbed floors and served coffee to keep him safe in school.
And now, the New York mafia had him kneeling on a kitchen floor with a gun to his head.
“Let him go!” I shouted at Mr. Peterson, tears spilling hot and fast down my cheeks. “He doesn't know anything! He’s just a kid!”
“He’s leverage,” Mr. Peterson corrected.
He let go of Vanessa, shoving her to the floor, and aimed his weapon directly at Sam.
“The code, Emily. Or I shoot your brother right now.”
I panicked.
I looked at Rosa.
“Mrs. Moretti, tell him! Please, just tell him the code!”
Rosa was weeping, clutching the doorframe.
“I can't, Emily. I don't know it!”
Mr. Peterson cocked his gun.
“Ten seconds.”
“Wait!” Luca shouted.
Everyone looked at the mafia boss.
Luca slowly lowered his weapon and placed it on the kitchen island.
He held his hands up, stepping between Mr. Peterson and Sam.
“The code isn't Emily’s name,” Luca said quietly.
Mr. Peterson narrowed his eyes.
“What did you say?”
“My father wasn't just a sentimental fool,” Luca continued, his voice steady. “He was paranoid. He wouldn't use the name of the girl he was trying to protect as the password. That would lead New York straight to her.”
Mr. Peterson hesitated.
“Then what is it?”
Luca looked at his mother.
“Ma. When Dad died... what was he holding?”
Rosa gasped, covering her mouth.
“A photograph,” she whispered.
“Of what?” Luca asked.
“Of... of the old restaurant. The first one he opened before things got bad.”
Luca looked back at Mr. Peterson.
“The restaurant was called La Famiglia. But that wasn't the password either.”
Luca took a slow step toward Mr. Peterson.
“My father had a safe in that restaurant. The combination was the date he met my mother. The date he always said saved his life.”
Mr. Peterson frowned.
“You're guessing.”
“No,” Luca said. “I’m not.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver pocket watch.
It was heavily engraved and looked incredibly old.
“My father gave me this watch the day he died. He told me it was broken, but to never fix it.”
Luca opened the watch face.
“The hands are frozen. At exactly 10:14. October 14th. The day he met my mother.”
He tossed the watch onto the floor near Mr. Peterson’s feet.
“That’s the code. 1014. Now take it, and let the boy go.”
Mr. Peterson stared at the watch.
He looked at Luca, weighing the truth of the story.
Then, Mr. Peterson smiled.
“Very clever, Luca. I’ll send a man to the bank right now to verify it.”
He kept his gun trained on Sam.
“If the box opens, the boy lives. If it doesn't...”
Before Mr. Peterson could finish his threat, Sam moved.
My brother, terrified but possessing the reckless courage of a seventeen-year-old, threw his elbow backward, catching the guard behind him squarely in the groin.
The guard grunted and dropped his weapon.
In the chaos, Luca didn't hesitate.
He lunged forward, not for his own gun on the island, but directly at Mr. Peterson.
He tackled the older man to the ground.
The gun fired wildly, the bullet shattering a row of hanging copper pots.
I scrambled across the floor, grabbing Sam by the shirt and pulling him under the heavy oak dining table in the corner of the kitchen.
Gunfire erupted as Luca’s guards poured into the kitchen from the hallway.
The two New York men were quickly neutralized, dropping to the tile.
Luca was locked in a brutal struggle with Mr. Peterson on the floor.
Peterson managed to free one hand and reached into his jacket, pulling a sleek, silver knife.
He slashed upward.
The blade caught Luca across the forearm, slicing deep through the fabric of his tuxedo.
Luca grunted in pain but didn't let go. He drove his knee into Peterson’s ribs, grabbed the hand holding the knife, and twisted hard until a sickening crack echoed through the kitchen.
Peterson screamed and dropped the blade.
Luca stood up, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his arm onto the white tile.
His guards quickly secured Peterson and the surviving New York men.
The kitchen fell silent, filled only with the smell of gunpowder and blood.
I pulled Sam out from under the table, hugging him so tightly he gasped for air.
“Are you hurt?” I sobbed, checking his face.
“I’m okay, Em,” Sam said, shaking violently. “I’m okay.”
Luca walked over to us, clutching his bleeding arm.
He looked down at me, his dark eyes filled with an exhaustion I had never seen before.
“Take your brother downstairs,” Luca said quietly. “My men will get you to a safe house. You're under my protection now.”
I looked at him.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Why did you give them the code to save my brother?”
Luca didn't smile.
“Because my father destroyed your family to protect his,” Luca said. “I won't make the same mistake.”
He turned to walk away, but stopped.
He looked back at the small silver pocket watch resting on the floor.
“But Emily?”
I looked up.
“Yes?”
“I lied to him.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“What do you mean?”
Luca’s expression was grim.
“The code isn't 1014. The watch has been broken since before I was born.”
He picked up the watch and closed the cover.
“New York is going to go to the bank, and the box won't open. And when Dominic realizes I tricked him...”
May you like
Luca looked toward the barricaded front doors.
“He isn't going to leave Chicago until we are all dead.”
