Chapter 4 - A Lock Beneath the Floorboards
“Claire, get Lily down into the root cellar behind the pantry!” Luca commanded, his voice sharp as a whip.
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed Lily by the hand and pulled her toward the wooden pantry door at the back of the kitchen. Inside, hidden behind shelves of canned goods, was a small trapdoor leading down into the brick cellar.
“Claire, I’m scared,” Lily cried, trembling against me.
“I know, baby, but you’re safe with me,” I whispered, lifting the heavy wooden hatch. “Go down the ladder. Quickly!”
I helped Lily down into the cool, dark cellar. Just before I pulled the trapdoor shut, Luca appeared in the pantry entrance.
He handed me a small, sleek black pistol.
“Do you know how to use this?” he asked, his dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that took my breath away.
“Point and pull,” I answered, my fingers wrapping around the cold grip.
“If anyone opens this door who isn't me or Daniel... you don’t hesitate. You shoot to kill.” Luca reached out, his hand briefly touching my cheek. “Keep her safe, Claire. I’m trusting you with my whole life.”
“I’ll protect her with mine, Luca,” I promised.
He nodded once, slammed the hatch closed, and slid a heavy sack of flour over the wood to conceal it.
Down in the dark, Lily and I huddled together on a dusty wooden bench. The only light came from the thin cracks in the floorboards above us.
Then, the world above exploded.
Gunfire shattered the quiet night. The sound was deafening—the sharp, rapid crack of automatic rifles mixed with the heavy, rhythmic thuds of Luca’s customized pistol.
Wood splintered. Glass rained down against the floorboards.
Lily buried her face into my chest, sobbing silently. I wrapped both arms around her, pulling her beneath the heavy oak worktable in the corner of the cellar, keeping my finger resting along the trigger guard of the pistol.
Above our heads, heavy boots stomped across the kitchen floor.
“Clear the back!” a gruff, unfamiliar voice shouted. “Salvatore wants the girl alive! Kill Moretti on sight!”
A burst of gunfire answered him from the living room.
A body crashed violently against the kitchen cabinets directly above us, followed by a wet groan and the thud of a weapon hitting the floor.
“Daniel! Move left!” Luca’s voice roared through the chaos, commanding and unbroken.
More shots echoed, vibrating through the brick walls of the cellar. The smell of gunpowder and burning drywall seeped down through the floorboards, choking the air.
Suddenly, footsteps moved directly into the pantry above us.
I held my breath, every muscle in my body locking tight.
The heavy sack of flour was dragged across the floor.
Someone was clearing the hatch.
Lily looked up at me, her eyes wide with sheer terror. I raised the pistol with both hands, aiming directly at the center of the wooden trapdoor. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
The iron ring on the hatch rattled.
Slowly, the wooden door began to lift.
A sliver of light cut through the darkness. A gloved hand gripped the edge of the opening.
I tightened my finger on the trigger.
“Claire?”
A voice whispered down.
Daniel.
The door opened fully, revealing Daniel’s soot-stained face. Blood dripped from a graze along his temple, but his eyes were sharp.
“It’s clear. Come up. Quickly!”
I lowered the gun, exhaled a ragged breath, and helped Lily up the wooden ladder.
When we stepped into the kitchen, the scene was horrific. The walls were riddled with bullet holes. Broken glass and shattered pottery littered every surface. Two men in tactical gear lay motionless on the floor near the doorway.
In the living room, Luca was standing by the broken window, reloading a fresh magazine into his sidearm. A dark crimson stain bloomed across his left shoulder, soaking through his white dress shirt.
“Luca!” I gasped, rushing forward. “You’re hit!”
“It’s a graze,” he said dismissively, though his jaw was clenched against the pain. He looked at Lily, dropping to one knee despite his injury. “Are you hurt, Lily?”
“No, Daddy,” she sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re bleeding!”
“I’m fine, baby. Daddy’s fine.” He held her tight, closing his eyes for three long seconds, breathing in the scent of her hair before looking up at Daniel.
“How many?” Luca asked.
“Eight men outside,” Daniel reported, checking his tactical radio. “Six down, two fled in the remaining SUV. Our reinforcements are two minutes out. They’ve intercepted Salvatore Bellini’s convoy trying to flee toward the private airfield.”
“Did they secure him?”
“They’ve surrounded his vehicle on the expressway,” Daniel nodded. “Salvatore and Vanessa are trapped.”
Luca stood up slowly, the cold, ruthless boss of the Moretti family returning in full force. The vulnerability he showed with his daughter vanished behind an iron wall of resolve.
“Daniel, take Claire and Lily to the safehouse in the northern pines,” Luca commanded.
“What about you, Mr. Moretti?” I asked, stepping closer. “You need a doctor. You need medical attention for that shoulder.”
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Luca looked down at me. For a brief second, the ice in his eyes softened as he looked into mine.
“I have a meeting to attend,” Luca said, his voice flat and deadly. “Salvatore Bellini has owed me a debt for five years. Tonight, I collect it in full.”
