Chapter 12 - THE SILVER SHIELD (Final Conclusion)
We took the helicopter.
There was no time for cars.
The flight to upstate New York took less than an hour, but it felt like a lifetime.
Luca sat opposite me in the cabin, loading magazines into his weapon with terrifying precision.
“They know Dominic is done,” Luca yelled over the roar of the rotors. “They have no money, no leader. They’re taking the boy for ransom to fund their escape.”
We touched down on the expansive lawn of Vanessa’s quiet estate just as the sun began to set.
The front doors of the house were blown open.
Luca sprinted across the grass, gun drawn, with me right behind him.
“Stay back!” he ordered, but I ignored him.
We burst into the house.
It was eerily quiet.
We found Vanessa in the kitchen, bleeding from a cut on her forehead, tied to a chair.
She was sobbing hysterically.
“They took him out the back!” she screamed when she saw us. “Down to the river!”
Luca cut her free and bolted out the back door.
The property sloped down to a rushing river, bordered by thick pine trees.
Through the branches, we saw them.
Three heavily armed men dragging a terrified, crying Leo toward a small motorboat waiting at the dock.
“Stop!” Luca roared, raising his gun.
The men turned.
The leader grabbed Leo, pulling the boy in front of him as a human shield, pressing a pistol to the child’s temple.
“Drop the gun, Moretti!” the leader yelled. “Or I blow his brains out!”
Luca froze.
He couldn’t take the shot. Not again. Not with his nephew’s life on the line.
The leader smiled, backing slowly toward the boat, dragging the crying boy with him.
“That’s what I thought,” the man sneered.
I stood behind Luca, my heart pounding in my ears.
I looked down at the ground.
Laying in the grass, discarded by the men during their raid, was a heavy, silver decorative shield from Vanessa’s hallway. It was meant to be mounted on a wall.
I didn’t think.
I acted.
I picked up the heavy silver shield.
I didn’t run at the men with the guns.
I ran straight for the wooden dock.
I threw the shield with all my strength, directly at the motorboat’s outboard engine.
The heavy silver edge smashed into the fuel line, severing it completely. Gasoline sprayed into the water.
The men spun toward the sound of the crash.
For one fraction of a second, the leader pulled his gun away from Leo’s head.
It was all Luca needed.
BANG.
The leader dropped.
The other two men raised their rifles, but Luca fired twice more, his aim flawless.
They collapsed onto the wooden planks.
It was over.
Leo stood on the dock, screaming.
I ran forward and dropped to my knees, scooping the little boy into my arms, holding him tightly against my chest.
“I’ve got you,” I cried. “Aunt Emma’s got you.”
Luca walked down to the dock, lowering his weapon.
He looked at the destroyed boat, the dead men, and finally, at me holding his nephew.
He knelt down beside us, wrapping his massive arms around both of us.
“You’re safe, Leo,” Luca whispered into the boy’s hair. “Nobody is ever going to hurt you again.”
One Year Later.
The autumn leaves were falling over the Chicago mansion.
The gates were open.
I stood on the front steps, wearing a simple white dress, holding a hot cup of coffee.
A black sedan pulled up the driveway.
Sal stepped out from the driver’s side. He walked with a silver-tipped cane now, but he smiled brightly when he saw me.
“Morning, Dad,” I smiled, walking down the steps to hug him.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he chuckled, kissing my cheek.
The rear door opened, and Luca stepped out.
He wasn’t wearing a dark, threatening suit. He was wearing a casual sweater, carrying a small cardboard box.
“Did you get them?” I asked.
Luca grinned, lifting the box.
“I bought out the whole bakery,” he said.
Suddenly, the front doors burst open, and a five-year-old boy came running down the steps.
“Uncle Luca!” Leo cheered.
Luca laughed, dropping the box onto the hood of the car and scooping the boy into his arms, tossing him into the air.
Vanessa stood in the doorway, smiling softly, finally looking at peace.
I leaned against the car, watching the man I loved laughing with his nephew in the morning sun.
We had survived the darkness. We had broken the curses of the past.
Luca walked over to me, holding Leo on his hip.
He leaned down and kissed me, soft and lingering.
“Happy?” he asked, resting his forehead against mine.
May you like
I looked at my father, my husband, and the little boy who had brought us all together.
“More than you know,” I whispered.
