Chapter 5 - The Cousin’s Bloody Confession
“Don’t do it!” I screamed.
Before Marco could pull the trigger, I lunged forward from behind Luca and threw the heavy brass fire extinguisher sitting on the wall mount directly at Marco’s legs.
The heavy cylinder struck Marco squarely in the shin with a sickening crack.
Marco roared in agony, his shot going wild. The bullet shattered the fluorescent light fixture above, plunging the corridor into strobing, electric sparks.
BANG! BANG!
Luca didn't miss.
Two rounds tore through Marco’s right shoulder. The revolver flew from his hand, clattering across the wet concrete.
The two guards behind him scrambled to raise their shotguns, but Matteo and four Moretti enforcers burst through the rear entrance behind them, weapons blazing.
Within three chaotic, violent seconds, Marco’s guards were on the ground, neutralized.
Vanessa screamed, dropping to her knees, covering her ears in absolute terror.
“Marco!” she shrieked.
Marco lay on the concrete, clutching his bleeding shoulder, gasping for breath as Luca stepped on his chest, pinning him to the floor.
Luca pressed the warm barrel of his gun directly between Marco’s eyes.
“Look at me,” Luca commanded in a voice of pure death.
Marco coughed up blood, his eyes wide with primal fear. “Luca... please... we’re family...”
“You brought a fake into my home,” Luca said coldly.
He gestured toward the woman in the wheelchair.
I had already rushed to the woman’s side. I looked at her hands.
There were no scars.
In the family portrait upstairs, Isabella Moretti had a distinctive birthmark on the back of her left wrist—a dark crescent moon.
This woman’s wrists were completely smooth.
“She isn't Isabella,” I announced, looking back at Luca. “It’s an actress. Look at her wrist. There’s no crescent mark.”
The woman in the wheelchair began sobbing hysterically in Italian, raising her trembling hands.
“They paid me!” she cried in broken English. “They told me to sit here! I don't know who Isabella is! Please don't shoot!”
Luca pressed his boot harder against Marco’s chest. The sound of cracking ribs echoed in the corridor.
“Who hired her, Marco?” Luca demanded. “Where did you get the consular seal?”
Marco grimaced, tears of pain mixing with the blood on his cheek.
“It was Don Vittorio Bellini... Vanessa’s father,” Marco wheezed. “He has someone on the inside of the Italian consulate. They forged the revocation papers to bypass the trust’s death clause!”
“And the real Isabella?” Luca growled, cocking the hammer of his gun. “Where is my mother?”
Marco laughed weakly, a gruesome, desperate sound.
“Your mother really died twenty years ago, Luca! But Vittorio found her original diary in the old estate in Palermo! The diary contained the master algorithm for the trust accounts!”
Luca’s expression didn't change, but I saw the slight flinch in his jaw. The phantom hope that his mother was alive had just been cruelly extinguished.
“And what was Vanessa’s role?” Luca asked, glancing sideways at his shivering fiancée.
Marco coughed violently. “Vanessa was supposed to marry you, poison your drink at the wedding reception, and inherit the entire estate through the amended trust document. The forty-eight-thousand-dollar bill was just a test run to see if the forged signature would pass through Daniel’s system!”
Daniel dropped to his knees, leaning against the wall, clutching his chest in sheer shock.
Vanessa crawled toward Luca, grabbing the hem of his trousers.
“Luca! He’s lying! He forced me! He threatened my life!”
Luca looked down at her with absolute disgust. He pulled his leg back, freeing himself from her grasp.
“You called Emma a stupid little maid,” Luca said softly. “You insulted the only person in this house who saw the truth.”
Luca turned to Matteo.
“Lock Marco and Vanessa in the wine cellar holding cells. Keep them alive until Vittorio Bellini calls to ask why the wire didn't clear.”
“Yes, Don Luca,” Matteo replied, hauling Marco up by his collar while two other guards dragged Vanessa away, her screams echoing down the subterranean tunnels.
Silence fell over the basement.
The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood.
Luca turned toward me.
His eyes were different now. The coldness was still there, but beneath it lay a burning, intense curiosity.
He walked over to where I was standing, looking down at my bruised hands.
He reached out, his gloved fingers gently lifting my chin.
“You saved my life, Emma Reed.”
My breath hitched. His touch was warm despite the freezing cellar air.
“I just did what made sense, Mr. Moretti,” I said quietly.
Luca shook his head slowly.
“Nobody looks at the details. Everyone is blinded by money, power, or fear. But you saw through all of it.”
Before I could answer, Daniel’s tablet began beeping frantically.
Daniel scrambled to his feet, staring at the screen.
“Boss... we have a major problem.”
Luca let go of my chin, his eyes turning back to Daniel. “What is it?”
Daniel looked up, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Vittorio Bellini didn't just target the foundation. A remote server has just initiated a full hostile takeover of Moretti Shipping at the Port of Chicago. And the access credentials being used...”
Daniel paused, looking terrified.
“Whose credentials, Daniel?” Luca barked.
“Yours, Boss. Someone is inside your personal penthouse downtown right now, using your biometric key.”
May you like
Luca turned to me, his eyes gleaming with lethal resolve.
“Emma. Pack a bag. We’re going downtown.”
