Chapter 6 - The Fire In The Walls
“A detonator?” I gasped, stepping away from the window.
Luca held the tiny, hollowed-out onyx button in his palm.
The microscopic red light pulsed faintly.
“My father didn't just build a hidden room,” Luca said quietly. “He built a trap.”
He looked at Carlo.
“Where are the charges?”
Carlo leaned on his cane.
“In the walls of the main dining room. Where the engagement dinner is supposed to take place.”
Vanessa stumbled back, clutching Leo to her chest.
“You were going to blow up our engagement dinner?”
“Not him,” Carlo corrected. “Antonio. He knew that one day, the Valentis would come back for the boy. And he knew they would strike when the house was full of guests to make a statement.”
Another loud knock echoed through the massive front doors.
BANG. BANG.
“Open up, Moretti,” a muffled voice called from outside. “We know the boy is in there.”
Luca’s security team had vanished.
“Where are your men?” I asked, panic rising in my throat.
“I sent them away an hour ago,” Luca said, his eyes dark. “When I found the torn suit, I knew there was a traitor in the house. I couldn't trust anyone.”
He looked down at Marco, who was bleeding out on the rug.
“Can he walk?”
“I can barely breathe,” Marco grunted.
Luca looked at me.
“Emma. Take Vanessa and Leo down to the wine cellar. There’s a service tunnel behind the last rack of Barolo. It leads to the boathouse.”
“I’m not leaving without my brother!” Vanessa screamed.
“He will slow you down,” Luca snapped. “If they catch the boy, they kill him. You know that.”
Vanessa looked at Marco.
Marco gave her a weak nod.
“Go, V. Save the kid.”
Vanessa sobbed, grabbing Leo’s hand.
I started to follow them, but Carlo grabbed my arm.
“Not you, Emma.”
I stared at the old man.
“What?”
“You cannot go with them,” Carlo said firmly. “If the Valentis catch Vanessa, they will search her. But they do not know your face.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, folded piece of thick parchment paper.
He pressed it into my hand.
“You must take this out through the front door.”
“Are you insane?” Luca barked. “They’ll kill her!”
“They won't touch her,” Carlo said calmly. “Because she is wearing a maid’s uniform. To them, she is invisible.”
He looked at me, his eyes intense.
“Walk out the front door. Tell them you were fired. Tell them the Morettis are hiding in the panic room upstairs.”
I looked at the parchment in my hand.
“What is this?”
“It is the deed to the Valenti empire,” Carlo said. “The legal confession their grandfather signed the night he surrendered to Antonio. As long as they don't have this paper, their claim to the family throne is worthless.”
My hands were shaking.
“You want me to walk through a dozen armed mafia hitmen carrying the one thing they want most?”
“Yes.”
Before I could argue, the front doors shook violently.
They were using a battering ram.
“Go!” Luca yelled at Vanessa.
She dragged Leo toward the basement door.
Luca turned to me, his face softening for just a fraction of a second.
“Emma. If you make it out, go to the address on the back of that paper. Don’t look back.”
I swallowed hard, shoving the paper deep into my apron pocket.
“What about you?”
Luca looked at the glowing red button in his hand.
“I’m going to invite our guests into the dining room.”
I ran toward the grand foyer just as the massive mahogany front doors splintered inward.
Three men in dark suits stepped through the ruins, guns drawn.
I threw my hands in the air and screamed, dropping to my knees.
“Please! Please don't shoot! I’m just the maid!”
The lead man, a tall, terrifying brute with a scarred cheek, walked up and pointed his gun at my head.
“Where is Moretti?”
I made myself cry. It wasn’t hard.
“Upstairs!” I sobbed. “He fired me! He locked himself in the master suite with the woman and the boy!”
The man sneered.
He lowered the gun.
“Get out of here, trash.”
I scrambled to my feet and ran out the broken front doors, into the cold Chicago night.
I walked past the black SUVs, keeping my head down, forcing myself not to run.
I reached the end of the driveway.
I turned onto the empty street.
I was safe.
Then, my phone buzzed in my apron pocket.
I pulled it out.
It was a text from an unknown number.
I opened it.
Check your pocket, Emma. He lied to you.
I stopped under a streetlamp.
I reached into my apron and pulled out the folded parchment paper.
I unfolded it.
It wasn’t a deed.
It wasn’t a confession.
It was a faded photograph of a woman holding a baby.
The woman was Vanessa.
And she was standing next to Carlo.
On the back, written in fresh ink, were three words:
May you like
He is mine.
TITLE: The Grandfather’s Final Lie
