The Signature in Blue Ink

“He killed Grandpa?” Julia whispered, her face draining of color.

Luca gripped the gold pen so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“My father’s dementia was real, but it wasn’t fatal. Not that fast. He died in his sleep, sudden heart failure. The exact same way Anna died.”

I felt a cold chill run down my spine.

“Thallium,” I said. “It mimics heart failure if the dose is high enough.”

Luca nodded slowly. “Marco poisoned my father to speed up the inheritance. But when the will was read, he found out Anna had forged the document to give the company to me, instead of Julia.”

“So he bided his time,” Julia said, the horrifying pieces falling into place. “He waited for you to solidify the family’s power. Then he poisoned Mom when she found out. And now, he’s coming for you.”

“He’s not taking my family,” Luca said. The Mafia boss was fully awake now. The predator had returned.

“What do we do?” I asked. “He has men outside. If you don’t sign that paper in fifteen minutes, he’s going to call the board.”

Luca turned to the wall panel next to the fireplace.

He pressed his thumb against a hidden groove in the oak molding. A small electronic keypad slid outward.

He typed a six-digit code.

Click.

A section of the bookshelf swung open, revealing a dark, narrow corridor built directly into the walls of the mansion.

“My father was paranoid,” Luca said, stepping into the hidden passage and pulling a heavy, steel lockbox from a shelf inside. “He built listening tubes and hidden safe-rooms throughout the house. Marco knows about some of them. He doesn’t know about this one.”

Luca brought the lockbox to the table.

He opened it.

Inside lay a thick, red leather ledger.

“What is that?” Julia asked.

“Insurance,” Luca said. “Anna wasn’t just protecting you, Julia. She was hunting Marco. Before she died, she compiled this. It’s a record of every offshore account Marco has used to steal from the syndicate’s captains over the last ten years.”

I stared at the book. “If the board sees that, they won’t vote you out. They’ll execute him.”

“Exactly.” Luca closed the ledger and handed it to Julia. “Take this. Go through the passage. It leads to the underground garage. Take my armored car and drive to the safehouse downtown. Call Gino. Tell him to assemble the loyal captains.”

“I’m not leaving you here!” Julia protested.

“You are the heir, Julia. If Marco gets this book, we have nothing. Go.”

Julia looked at her father, tears in her eyes. She hugged him fiercely, took the ledger, and disappeared into the dark passage. Luca closed the bookshelf behind her.

He turned to me.

“Claire. You need to leave too. Out the back door. My driver will take you home.”

I looked at the breakfast tray. At the forged power of attorney document.

I thought about walking away. I could go back to my quiet life. Go back to managing my mother’s medication.

But I looked at Luca. A man who had just discovered his brother murdered his wife and his father, yet his first instinct was to protect his daughter and his nurse.

“I’m not leaving,” I said.

Luca frowned. “Claire, Marco isn’t going to just walk away if I refuse to sign. He’s going to use force.”

“I know.” I walked over to my medical bag. I unzipped the side pocket and pulled out a syringe and a vial of clear liquid. “Which is why he’s not going to use force.”

Luca looked at the needle. “What is that?”

“Epinephrine. Pure adrenaline,” I said, filling the syringe. “If Marco has Dr. Harris’s files, he knows you have a heart condition. If Marco suffers a sudden, massive cardiac event right here in the sunroom, his men will think it was natural. Just like he made your father’s death look natural.”

Luca stared at me, a mixture of shock and profound respect crossing his face.

“You’re a nurse.”

“I took an oath to do no harm,” I said, slipping the syringe into my pocket. “But Marco isn’t a patient. He’s a disease.”

Before Luca could answer, the heavy wooden doors of the sunroom violently crashed open.

Marco stood in the doorway. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

And he wasn’t alone.

Three massive men in dark suits stepped into the room behind him, their hands resting on the grips of holstered weapons.

Marco looked at the empty room, then at Luca, who was standing tall, no longer pretending to be weak.

“Where is Julia?” Marco demanded, his voice echoing like a gunshot.

And dangling from Marco’s hand was a red silk scarf.

Julia’s scarf.