Chapter 6 - THE COLLISION
The headlights of the Porsche illuminated Leo’s terrified face.
His lip was split, bleeding down his chin. The two men held him tightly by the arms, standing directly in the center of the driveway, blocking my path to the main road.
Arthur Bellini’s men had found him before I could.
Answer one: Arthur was always one step ahead.
Open two: If they had Leo, why bring him here instead of killing him? What did Arthur still need?
I slammed the brakes, the armored Porsche skidding on the wet asphalt.
I locked the doors. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
One of the men—a hulking brute with a scarred jaw—walked up to my window. He tapped on the reinforced glass with the barrel of a pistol.
"Roll it down, sweetheart," he shouted over the rain.
I didn't move.
He aimed the gun at Leo's head. "Roll it down, or the law student loses his brains."
My hand trembled as I pressed the button. The window slid down two inches.
"What do you want?" I demanded, my voice shaking.
"Mr. Bellini says there's a change of plans," the man sneered. "He knows Luca faked destroying the key. He knows you have it."
My blood froze. Vanessa.
Vanessa hadn't come to the kitchen to help us. She had gone to see if Luca really destroyed it. When she found out he hadn't, she played the remorseful daughter, gave Luca a gun to send him on a wild goose chase, and tipped off her father.
Another reversal. She was entirely her father's daughter.
"I don't have the key," I lied. "Luca took it."
The man cocked the pistol. "Wrong answer."
He pressed the gun harder against Leo's temple.
Leo squeezed his eyes shut. "Emma, don't give them anything!" he yelled.
"Shut up, kid," the second man snarled, hitting Leo in the stomach. Leo doubled over, coughing.
"Stop!" I screamed.
I looked down at the passenger seat. I didn't have the key. Luca had it. He was halfway to Pier 44 by now.
But I had to buy time.
"Okay," I said, my mind racing. "Okay. I'll get it. It's in the house. I hid it in the kitchen."
The scarred man smiled. "Smart girl. Get out of the car. We're going inside."
I unlocked the door and stepped out into the freezing rain.
They shoved Leo toward me. I caught him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Em," Leo whispered, shivering.
"It's okay. I've got you," I whispered back.
The two men marched us back toward the service entrance of the mansion.
Inside, the engagement party was still going on in the front of the house. Faint jazz music drifted down the hallway, a surreal contrast to the nightmare in the back.
We entered the kitchen. It was empty. Maria had hidden herself.
"Where is it?" the scarred man demanded.
I walked slowly toward the massive commercial stove. My eyes darted around the room, looking for a weapon. A knife. A heavy pan.
But my eyes landed on something else.
The old aluminum red sauce pot.
It was still sitting on the back burner. The burner was off, but the sauce was still scalding hot, insulated by the thick metal.
"It's under the stove," I said, pointing to the narrow gap between the floor and the oven. "I kicked it under there when your boss walked in earlier."
The scarred man sneered. "Get it."
"I can't reach it," I said, backing away. "My arms are too short."
The man rolled his eyes. "Useless."
He kept his gun trained on Leo, but he crouched down, shining a flashlight under the stove.
"I don't see—"
I didn't think. I just moved.
I grabbed the heavy handles of the aluminum pot.
With a scream that tore my throat, I swung the heavy pot upward and hurled the boiling red sauce directly into the scarred man's face.
He shrieked, dropping his gun and clawing at his face as the scalding liquid burned his skin.
The second man raised his gun to shoot me.
Before he could pull the trigger, a heavy cast-iron skillet swung out from the pantry doorway and cracked against the back of his skull.
He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Standing in the doorway, breathing heavily and holding the frying pan, was Maria.
"Nobody threatens my boys," she said fiercely.
I grabbed Leo's hand. "We have to go. Now."
I picked up the dropped gun from the floor.
"Maria, come with us," I pleaded.
"Go to the bank," she ordered. "Save the legacy. I will lock myself in the wine cellar. They won't get through that steel door."
I didn't argue. Leo and I bolted out the back door, leaving the screaming man on the kitchen floor.
We ran to the Porsche, jumped in, and tore out of the driveway, smashing past the black SUV.
As we sped toward downtown Chicago, Leo looked at me, completely bewildered.
"Emma, what is going on? Why did they call me the 'lost heir'?"
I gripped the steering wheel.
"Leo," I said gently, navigating the rain-slicked streets. "You're not a Sullivan. You're a Moretti."
Leo stared at me. "What?"
Before I could explain, my phone rang.
It was Luca.
I put it on speaker.
"Luca! We're safe. We're heading to the bank. Did you find Paul?"
There was a heavy, terrifying silence on the other end.
Then, Arthur Bellini's voice came through the speaker.
May you like
"Your boss was very brave, Emma," Arthur said smoothly. "But unfortunately, he fell into my daughter's trap. Bring the boy to the bank. We will trade you Luca's life for his."
The line went dead.
