Chapter 7 - The Contract Signed in Ash
The speedboat cut through the black water like a razor.
We docked beneath the Eighteenth Street bridge in less than five minutes.
Luca leaped onto the slippery wooden pier before the ropes were even tied.
He pulled me up onto the concrete embankment with one powerful yank.
The rain was coming down in sheets now, washing the brick dust from our clothes.
My apartment building sat two blocks south.
Through the heavy rain, I could already see muzzle flashes stroking against the third-floor brick facade.
Gunfire echoed off the wet alley walls.
Dr. Rossi was returning fire from my bedroom window.
“Daniel, Matteo, take the front entrance!” Luca ordered as we sprinted into the alley.
“Clear the stairs from the bottom up!”
“What about you, boss?” Daniel shouted, racking his weapon.
“I’m going up the fire escape,” Luca said.
He grabbed my hand, pulling me into the shadows beside the industrial dumpster.
“Emma, stay behind this concrete pillar until I drop the ladder.”
“No,” I said firmly, grabbing his sleeve.
Luca stopped, staring at me in surprise.
“What did you say?”
“The fire escape ladder is rusted shut from the outside,” I said, catching my breath.
“You’ll break the cable and fall. You need to use the window above the bakery next door.”
Luca looked at the low roof of the adjacent bakery, then back at me.
A grim, appreciative smile touched his lips.
“Show me.”
We scrambled up the wooden loading pallets behind the bakery.
Luca boosted me onto the gravel roof, then hauled himself up in a single fluid motion.
From the bakery roof, my bedroom window was only six feet away across a narrow air shaft.
Inside my apartment, another burst of automatic gunfire shattered glass.
Luca didn't hesitate.
He backed up three steps, sprinted across the wet gravel, and leaped across the gap.
He crashed through the broken window frame, rolling onto the floorboards inside.
I leaped immediately behind him, landing hard on the wood.
Inside, the living room was destroyed.
Bullet holes peppered the floral wallpaper.
Dr. Rossi was slumped behind my kitchen counter, holding a bloody shoulder, his revolver empty on the floor.
In the hallway stood two men in black tactical gear, aiming assault rifles at the bedroom door where Lucia lay.
Luca rose like a shadow from the floor.
His silver pistol cracked twice in rapid succession.
Both men collapsed instantly onto the hallway carpet.
From the stairwell, Daniel and Matteo burst through the front door, sweeping the remaining corners.
“Clear!” Daniel yelled.
Luca sprinted into the bedroom.
Lucia lay motionless on the bed.
Her IV lines had been yanked out during the firefight, and blood pooled beneath her pale arm.
Her eyes were half-open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Mother!” Luca cried out, dropping to his knees beside the bed.
He placed two trembling fingers against the side of her neck.
He waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
A ragged, shuddering breath escaped Lucia’s chest.
Her pulse fluttered against his fingers.
“She’s alive,” Luca choked out, burying his face against her cold shoulder.
“She’s alive.”
I knelt beside him, grabbing a clean towel from the floor to apply pressure to her bleeding arm.
Lucia’s eyes slowly focused on her son.
“Luca...” she whispered, her lips pale blue.
“I’m here, Mother. It’s over. I have the documents.”
Lucia shook her head weakly.
“Not over...” she coughed.
“Carlo... he has the backup copies... in the downtown vault...”
“There is no downtown vault,” Luca said softly.
He pulled the crumpled 1994 contract from his pocket.
“I have the original agreement right here.”
Lucia looked at the paper with horror in her eyes.
“Burn it, Luca,” she gasped, reaching out with trembling fingers.
“Burn it before the Family Council sees it.”
Luca looked down at the parchment that proved his entire life was a lie.
He took a silver lighter from his pocket.
He flicked the wheel.
A bright yellow flame danced in the dim bedroom.
Luca held the edge of the contract over the flame.
The paper caught instantly.
Orange fire consumed the signatures of Carlo Bellini and Antonio Moretti.
Ash fluttered down onto the linoleum floor.
“The contract doesn't matter anymore, Mother,” Luca said, his voice hard as tempered steel.
“Why?” she whispered.
Luca stood up, towering over the room.
His eyes burned with absolute, unyielding authority.
“Because tonight, I am not a Moretti. And I am not a Bellini.”
He looked directly at Daniel.
“Call every captain in the Midwest syndicate. Tell them to assemble at the Grand Ballroom at 4:00 AM.”
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“Boss... that’s the Family Council headquarters. Carlo controls the security there.”
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“Then tell the captains to bring their weapons,” Luca replied.
“Tonight, we settle this bloodline once and for all.”
