Chapter 3 - THE VOICEMAIL THAT SURVIVED THE CRASH
I ran to the kitchen, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped the charging cable from the counter.
When I returned to the dining room, Luca had forced Blair into a chair. Two of his massive security guards, men who hadn’t been in the room five minutes ago, were standing behind her.
Blair wasn’t screaming anymore. She sat rigidly, her face the color of ash, watching Luca plug the shattered phone into the wall outlet.
For a terrifying minute, the screen remained black.
Then, a faint white apple logo appeared. The screen was cracked into a spiderweb, but it still worked.
“Angela,” Luca said softly, his eyes fixed on the booting phone. “Why did you keep this secret for eight months?”
The nurse looked down. “Miss Whitmore found out I had it. She told me if I ever mentioned it to you, she would have my nursing license revoked. She paid off my medical school debt the next day.”
Luca didn’t yell. He just nodded slowly.
The phone pinged. It was alive.
Luca entered his father’s passcode. He tapped the screen a few times, navigating to the voice memos app.
“Let’s see what my father wanted to say in his final moments,” Luca murmured.
He pressed play.
The audio was distorted, filled with the horrifying sounds of crunching metal and a blaring car horn. But then, a weak, wet voice came through the speaker.
“Luca…”
Michael let out a broken sob at the sound of his father’s voice.
“Luca, listen to me. I don’t have much time. I’m trapped. Michael is unconscious. She left us.”
A wet cough echoed through the room.
“Blair cut the brake lines, Luca. She didn’t know I was getting in the car with Michael. She only wanted him dead.”
The recording clicked off.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Blair hadn’t just fled an accident. She had caused it. And her target hadn’t been the mafia boss’s father.
It had been his disabled younger brother.
“Why?” Luca asked. The single word carried the weight of an executioner’s axe.
Blair looked at Michael, then up at Luca. A twisted, desperate smile slowly crawled across her face.
“Because he knew,” Blair whispered. “Michael found out what I was doing. He was going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“That I didn’t want to marry a mobster!” Blair screamed, the facade finally breaking. “I didn’t love you, Luca! Your father forced my family into this arrangement to settle our debts! I was a prisoner!”
She pointed a shaking finger at Michael.
“But little Mikey over there… he found my secret. He found out about the money.”
Luca’s jaw tightened. “What money?”
“The offshore accounts,” Blair laughed, a hysterical, manic sound. “I’ve been siphoning millions from the Moretti legitimate businesses for a year. I was going to take the money and disappear before the wedding. But Michael saw my laptop. He knew.”
She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms.
“I had to get rid of him. Cutting the brakes on his car was easy. I just didn’t expect your father to insist on riding with him to the gala.”
I felt sick to my stomach. This woman had murdered a father, crippled a brother, and spent eight months torturing the survivor with drugs, all for money.
Luca walked slowly toward her. He didn’t raise his hand. He just leaned down until his face was inches from hers.
“Where is the money, Blair?”
“Gone,” she spat. “Hidden. You’ll never find it. And if you kill me, you’ll never get it back.”
She turned her head and locked her cold, dead eyes on me.
“And I wouldn’t get too comfortable, Hannah,” Blair sneered.
My breath caught.
“You think you’re a hero for exposing me?” Blair smiled maliciously. “Before dinner, I made a phone call. I knew you were getting suspicious about Michael’s water. I knew you might talk.”
Panic seized my chest. “What did you do?”
“Your mother cleans the offices at the downtown plaza, right?” Blair asked sweetly. “She works the tenth floor alone until midnight.”
“Don’t touch her!” I yelled, stepping forward.
Blair ignored me, looking at Luca. “I hired two men. They are with Hannah’s mother right now. If I don’t walk out of these doors and send them a text in five minutes, they’re going to throw the old woman out a tenth-story window.”
My knees went weak. I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.
“Luca, please,” I begged, tears blinding me. “My mom.”
Luca stared at Blair. He didn’t look angry anymore. He looked entirely hollow.
“You think a hostage will save you?” Luca asked quietly.
“I know it will,” Blair smirked. “Because if you let an innocent maid’s mother die, your brother will never look at you the same way again.”
Luca pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed a number and put it on speaker.
“Marco,” Luca said.
His head of security answered instantly. “Boss.”
“Send a team to the downtown plaza. Tenth floor. Hannah’s mother is there.”
“Copy that. We’re five minutes away.”
Blair laughed. “Five minutes is too late, Luca.”
Luca hung up. He looked at the two guards standing behind Blair.
“Take her to the basement,” Luca ordered. “If Hannah’s mother dies, break every bone in Blair’s body. Slowly.”
Blair’s smile vanished. She began to scream as the men dragged her out of the room.
Luca turned to me, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying resolve.
“Come with me,” he said. “We’re going to get your mother.”
We ran to his black SUV. Luca drove like a madman through the rainy Chicago streets.
When we pulled up to the towering glass office building, Marco was already standing by the front doors.
But Marco wasn’t moving. He was staring at something on the ground.
I threw the car door open and ran toward him.
“Where is she?!” I screamed.
Marco turned to Luca, his face completely pale.
“Boss,” Marco said. “We’re too late.”
He pointed to the glass pavement near the revolving doors.
Lying in a pool of rainwater was my mother’s yellow cleaning glove.
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And it was covered in blood.
TITLE: The Blood On The Yellow Glove
