The Watch Beneath the Floorboards

The flashing lights of the fire trucks reflected off Vanessa’s red silk gown. She looked like a demon standing in the chaos she had created.

Dominic and two other armed men flanked her, aiming their weapons at the approaching police cruisers blocked outside the heavy iron gates.

But Vanessa’s gun remained pressed firmly to George’s temple.

Ellen was crying on the grass nearby, held back by one of Dominic’s men.

Luca stepped out of the shadows, walking directly into the light of the porch.

“Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice carrying over the sirens.

Vanessa whipped her head around. When she saw Luca alive, her face twisted in absolute fury.

“You’re supposed to be dead!” she screamed.

“I’ve survived worse than you,” Luca replied coldly, taking slow, measured steps toward the porch. “Let George go.”

“No!” Vanessa shouted, her hand shaking. “He knows where it is! He has the ledger!”

“There is no ledger,” Luca lied smoothly, holding his empty hands up. “My father didn’t owe your family anything. He was building a criminal case against your father to hand to the FBI.”

Vanessa laughed, a high, desperate sound. “You’re bluffing. My father said—”

“Your father lied to you, Vanessa,” I yelled, stepping out from behind Luca.

Vanessa’s eyes locked onto me. She saw the ash on my clothes. She saw the bundle of letters sticking out of my apron pocket.

“You stupid little maid,” she hissed.

“She’s not a maid,” Luca interrupted, his voice echoing like thunder across the lawn. “She is a Moretti.”

Vanessa froze.

George’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Luca confirmed, never breaking eye contact with his ex-fiancée. “She is my sister. Which means half of everything on this estate belongs to her. You didn’t just assault an employee, Vanessa. You assaulted the co-heir to the Moretti empire.”

Vanessa’s grip on the gun faltered for a fraction of a second.

It was all George needed.

The older man threw an elbow directly into Vanessa’s stomach. She gasped, stumbling backward.

At the exact same moment, the estate gates burst open.

It wasn’t just police. It was heavily armed federal agents.

They flooded the driveway, rifles raised. “FBI! Drop your weapons!”

Dominic and his men immediately threw their guns to the grass, raising their hands in surrender. They were mercenaries, not martyrs.

Vanessa hit the wooden deck of the porch, the gun clattering out of her reach. She stared in horror as federal agents swarmed her.

Luca ran up the steps and pulled George to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Luca asked.

George nodded, breathing heavily. “I’m fine, son.”

An FBI agent in a suit walked up the steps.

“Mr. Moretti? We received a tip that the Bellini family was orchestrating a hit on this property tonight. An anonymous tip from a burner phone.”

Luca looked at the agent, confused. “I didn’t call you.”

“I did.”

We all turned.

Ellen Marino stood up from the grass, brushing the dirt off her knees.

She walked up the steps, reached into her cardigan pocket, and pulled out a heavy, iron key.

She handed it to Luca.

“Your father gave this to me the day he died,” Ellen said quietly. “He said if the Bellinis ever came for this house, I was to call his contact at the Bureau, and give you this key.”

She looked down at the floorboards of the porch.