The Woman in Room Twelve

Panic erupted in my chest.

“A bomb?” I gasped.

Luca didn’t flinch. His eyes locked onto the black box in Marco’s hand.

“Take it outside. Far from the house. Now,” Luca ordered, his voice devoid of any panic.

Marco nodded tightly and bolted through the front doors, sprinting toward the vast, empty lawn of the estate.

“Emma, go upstairs,” Luca commanded, turning to me. “Get Sofia and Leo. Bring them down the back servants' stairs. Do not use the main staircase.”

I didn’t ask questions. I ran.

I took the stairs two at a time, my apron catching on my knees. I burst into the third-floor guest suite. Sofia was sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking Leo’s hair as he slept.

“We have to go,” I said breathlessly. “Vanessa escaped. There’s an explosive.”

Sofia’s eyes widened, but she didn’t panic. She possessed the same cold composure as her brother in a crisis. She scooped Leo into her arms, wrapping him in a heavy blanket.

We hurried down the narrow, dimly lit servants' corridor.

As we reached the first-floor landing near the kitchen, a massive explosion shook the foundation of the house.

The shockwave shattered the kitchen windows, spraying glass across the tile floor. I threw myself over Sofia and Leo, shielding them as the debris rained down.

The alarms instantly began blaring.

“Are you hurt?” I yelled over the siren.

“No!” Sofia shouted back, clutching a crying Leo tightly.

The kitchen doors swung open, and Luca rushed in, his tuxedo jacket covered in dust.

“Marco threw it into the fountain,” Luca said quickly. “Everyone is safe. But that wasn’t meant to kill us.”

I stood up, brushing glass from my shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“It was a distraction,” Luca realized, his eyes darting toward the hallway that led to his father’s private study. “She didn’t leave the house.”

He drew his weapon.

“Take them to the safe room in the basement. Lock the steel door.”

Before I could argue, Luca took off down the hall.

I led Sofia and Leo down the stone steps into the basement. We hurried past the shattered emergency hatch of the wine cellar and into the reinforced panic room. I slammed the heavy steel door shut and threw the deadbolt.

It was pitch black until the emergency lights flickered on.

Leo was sobbing into Sofia’s neck.

I knelt down beside them. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the broken rosary I had found on the boat. I pressed it into Leo’s little hands.

“Hold onto this, Leo,” I whispered gently. “Your mom said it protects you, right?”

He sniffled, gripping the wooden beads. “Yes.”

“You’re safe now. I promise.”

Upstairs, the house was eerily silent beneath the blaring alarms.

In the study, Luca found the heavy mahogany doors wide open.

The massive floor safe hidden behind his father’s portrait had been blown open by a smaller, precise shaped charge.

Standing in front of the smoking safe was Vanessa.

She was shoving stacks of cash and heavy, leather-bound books into a duffel bag.

“You always were too predictable, Luca,” Vanessa sneered, not even turning around as he leveled his gun at her back. “You run to protect the family, leaving the vault wide open.”

“Step away from the safe, Vanessa,” Luca said coldly.

Vanessa laughed, zipping the bag.

“You think I care about the money? I came back for this.”

She turned around. In her hand, she wasn’t holding cash.

She was holding a dark, leather-bound book.

The Sullivan Ledger.

My father’s ledger.

“The Commission doesn’t want the boy anymore, Luca,” Vanessa smiled fiercely. “When I called them from the cellar, I told them I found the book. This buys my freedom. It buys me an empire.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “My father gave that book to Emma’s father to destroy. It shouldn’t be here.”

“Antonio was a fool,” Vanessa spat. “He couldn’t bring himself to burn the ultimate leverage. He hid it in his own safe.”

She reached into her torn gown and pulled a small silver revolver, pointing it at Luca’s chest.

“Drop the gun, Luca. Or I’ll shoot.”

Luca didn’t lower his weapon.

“You won’t shoot me, Vanessa. Because you know if you kill a boss in his own home, the Commission won’t protect you. They’ll execute you for breaking the rules.”

Vanessa’s hand trembled. She was desperate, cornered, and entirely out of her depth.

“I’m walking out of here,” she said, her voice rising in panic.

Suddenly, a shadow moved behind her.

From the shattered window of the study, Marco stepped into the room. His face was bleeding from the explosion outside, but his eyes were lethal.

Before Vanessa could pull the trigger, Marco struck the back of her head with the butt of his rifle.

She collapsed to the floor like a puppet with cut strings.

The leather ledger slid across the Persian rug, stopping at Luca’s feet.

He looked down at it.

Thirty-eight years of blackmail, secrets, and blood, contained in one book.

Luca bent down and picked it up.

But as he opened the cover, a single, faded photograph fell out and landed face up on the floor.

Luca stared at it.