Chapter 8 - THE SILVER BLADE
The cold steel of the knife bit sharply against my skin.
I gasped, my hands flying up to grab Marcus’s wrist, but he was too strong. He wrenched my head back, exposing my throat to the glaring lights of the train station.
“Back off!” Marcus screamed, his voice cracking with pure panic. “Everyone back off, or I’ll cut her throat right here on the platform!”
The federal agents froze, their tactical rifles still raised but their fingers easing off the triggers.
Luca dropped his gun instantly. It clattered loudly against the concrete.
His face was a mask of sheer, unfiltered terror. The calm, calculating mafia boss was completely gone, replaced by a man watching his world crumble.
“Marcus, stop,” Luca begged, holding both hands up, palms open. “Let her go. Take me. Take me instead.”
“You’re worthless to me now, Luca!” Marcus spat, backing slowly toward the open door of the idling train, dragging me with him. “The FBI has my money. The Russians will kill me if I don't get on that boat. She is my ticket out of here!”
The edge of the blade pressed harder. A tiny bead of warm blood trickled down my neck.
Luca saw the blood.
Something inside him snapped.
“If you kill her,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a terrifying, demonic whisper, “I won't let the FBI arrest you. I will hunt you down. I will take my time. And I will make you beg for death.”
Marcus laughed, a frantic, unhinged sound. “You’re not in charge anymore, boy!”
He took another step back. We were inches from the train door.
I could hear the train conductor shouting in the distance. The heavy engine revved, preparing for departure.
I looked at Luca. His dark eyes were locked onto mine, silently pleading with me to hold on, to trust him.
But I didn't want him to trade his life for mine. I was just a maid. He was the protector of his family. He had to be there for Isabella and Leo.
I remembered the fierce anger my mother had shown tonight. The strength she had summoned after fifteen years of fear.
I was Anya Brooks’s daughter. I was not going to be a victim.
As Marcus stepped backward onto the metal threshold of the train, he momentarily shifted his weight.
I didn't hesitate.
I slammed my heavy boot down as hard as I could, crushing Marcus’s instep.
Marcus howled in pain, his grip on my hair loosening for a fraction of a second.
I threw my elbow backward, driving it violently into his ribcage. The breath left his lungs in a sharp whoosh.
The knife slipped away from my throat.
I dove forward, tumbling onto the hard concrete of the platform.
Before Marcus could recover, a massive, dark blur shot past me.
Luca tackled Marcus with the force of a freight train.
They crashed into the side of the train car, the metal denting under their combined weight. Marcus swung wildly with the knife, slicing a deep gash across Luca’s forearm, tearing through his expensive jacket.
Luca didn't even flinch.
He grabbed Marcus’s wrist with his bleeding arm, twisted it violently until the knife dropped, and then drove his fist into Marcus’s jaw.
The sound of bone cracking echoed sharply.
Marcus slumped forward, completely unconscious, sliding down the side of the train car like a ragdoll.
Luca stood over him, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his arm onto the concrete. He looked at the federal agents who were rushing forward to cuff Marcus.
Then, Luca turned around.
He ran to me, dropping to his knees on the dirty platform.
He didn't care about his bleeding arm. He didn't care about the dozens of FBI agents watching.
He gently took my face in his large, tattooed hands, his thumbs carefully avoiding the small cut on my neck.
“Are you okay?” Luca choked out, his eyes desperately scanning my face. “Natalie, look at me. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I whispered, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes. “I’m okay, Luca.”
He let out a ragged breath, pulling me against his chest. He buried his face in my hair, holding me so tightly I could feel the rapid, frantic beating of his heart.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered into my hair. “God, I thought I lost you.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his ruined shirt. In the middle of the chaotic train station, surrounded by sirens and shouting agents, I felt completely, perfectly safe.
Aleksander walked over, looking down at the unconscious Marcus Bellini as agents hauled him away.
“It’s over, Mr. Moretti,” Aleksander said softly. “The transfer papers are void. The Russian syndicate has been shut out. Your company belongs to you and Isabella.”
Luca slowly pulled back, looking down at me with a soft, breathtaking smile.
“Let’s go home,” Luca said, wiping a tear from my cheek.
We drove back to my mother’s apartment in silence, his hand gripping mine across the center console the entire way.
When we walked through the broken door, Isabella and Leo were sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, talking quietly. My mother was making fresh tea.
The nightmare was truly over.
Isabella stood up when she saw Luca’s bloody arm. “Luca! What happened?”
“It’s just a scratch,” Luca smiled, walking over and wrapping his good arm around his sister and his nephew.
Leo looked up at Luca, a shy, hopeful smile on his face. “Thank you, Uncle Luca.”
Luca’s eyes watered. He ruffled Leo’s dark curls. “Welcome to the family, kid.”
Aleksander cleared his throat from the doorway. He was holding a large, velvet-covered box.
“Before I leave, there is one last piece of business,” Aleksander said, walking into the room. He didn't look at Luca. He looked directly at me.
“Me?” I asked, confused.
Aleksander nodded. “Your grandmother, Magda, was a very smart woman, Natalie. When she realized Marcus was going to burn down the factory, she didn't just save the baby.”
He placed the velvet box on the table and opened it.
Isabella gasped, covering her mouth.
Luca stared in absolute shock.
Sitting on a bed of white silk was the most magnificent piece of jewelry I had ever seen.
It was a heavy, ornate necklace, dripping with massive, flawless sapphires and diamonds.
“Your grandmother knew Marcus would try to destroy the Moretti family’s wealth,” Aleksander explained. “So, she broke into Antonio’s private safe before the fire reached the office. She stole the family’s most valuable asset to keep it out of Marcus’s hands.”
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Aleksander pushed the box toward me.
“She gave it to me fifteen years ago,” Aleksander said. “With strict instructions to give it to her granddaughter only on the day the Bellini family was finally destroyed.”
