Chapter 8 - THE FAMILY HEIRLOOM
The rain hissed against the rusted metal of the train cars.
I took a step forward, my heart screaming at the sight of my mother on her knees in the mud, but Luca’s heavy arm instantly shot across my chest, holding me back.
"Don't move," Luca whispered, his eyes locked on his uncle.
Uncle Peter stepped fully into the flickering halogen light. He was an older man, sharp-featured and impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that mocked the grime of the railyard.
"Where is the boy, Marco?" Peter demanded, his cane tapping against the wet concrete.
"He's safe," Marco shouted over the rain, his gun aimed squarely at Peter's chest. "Let the woman go, Peter. You have your war with Luca. She has nothing to do with this."
Vanessa laughed. It was a shrill, manic sound.
"Nothing to do with this?" Vanessa sneered, digging the barrel of her gun harder against my mother’s head. My mother whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. "This pathetic old nurse is the only loose end keeping me from a perfect life! She saw Peter slip the digitalis into the Don's IV twelve years ago. She's a liability!"
"A liability you kept alive to blackmail me," Peter snapped at Vanessa, irritation flashing across his face. "I told you to eliminate her a decade ago. But you wanted leverage over her daughter."
"And look how well it worked!" Vanessa spat, gesturing toward me with her free hand. "I got myself a loyal little maid who polished my shoes while I plotted to take her boss's empire."
Luca didn't react to the taunts. He stood completely still, a terrifying portrait of lethal calm.
He reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out the gold pocket watch.
The gold gleamed dully in the terrible light.
"You want the empire, Peter?" Luca said, his voice carrying effortlessly over the storm. "You want the microfilm inside this watch? The accounts, the blackmail files, the true power?"
Peter's eyes went wide with naked greed. He took a step forward. "Give it to me, Luca. You’re done. You have no heir. The Commission will strip you of your title by morning."
"Let Sophie and her mother walk away," Luca demanded. "Let Marco go. You get the watch, and you get me."
"No!" I screamed, grabbing Luca’s arm. "Luca, you can't!"
Luca didn't look at me, but his hand found mine in the dark, squeezing it with desperate reassurance.
Peter chuckled. "You always were a romantic, Luca. Just like your weak father. Fine. Toss the watch. I'll let the women run."
Luca raised his arm to throw the heavy gold timepiece.
But as he did, Marco suddenly moved.
"He's lying, Luca!" Marco yelled, stepping in front of us.
BANG.
The gunshot echoed like thunder through the railyard.
I screamed as Marco jerked backward, clutching his shoulder. He collapsed onto the wet concrete, dropping his weapon.
Peter had drawn a concealed pistol from his coat faster than I could blink.
"I don't leave loose ends, Luca," Peter sneered, aiming his smoking gun at his bleeding nephew. "Kill the mother, Vanessa. I'll finish these two."
Vanessa smiled a sickening, victorious smile. She cocked the hammer of her gun, pressing it against my mother’s skull.
"Goodbye, Sophie," Vanessa mocked, looking directly into my eyes.
I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the sound that would end my world.
But the gunshot never came.
Instead, a horrifying, wet CRUNCH echoed through the yard, followed immediately by Vanessa’s bloodcurdling scream.
I opened my eyes.
Vanessa’s gun clattered to the concrete. She was gripping her wrist, wailing in agony, dropping to her knees in the mud beside my mother.
Standing right behind her, breathing heavily and looking pale as a ghost, was Robert the chef.
His arm was heavily bandaged from the kitchen window incident, and he was leaning heavily against Daniel, who had a suppressed rifle raised to his shoulder.
In Robert’s good hand, he held a massive, heavy iron meat tenderizer. He had just shattered Vanessa’s wrist.
"You're fired, miss," Robert panted, spitting blood onto the concrete.
Before Peter could react to the ambush, Daniel pulled the trigger of his rifle.
The shot was silent, but Peter screamed as a bullet tore through his kneecap. The older man collapsed onto the wet ground, his cane clattering away into the dark.
Instantly, a dozen of Luca’s heavily armed men swarmed from the shadows of the train cars, flooding the yard. They had been there the whole time, waiting for Luca’s signal.
"Mom!" I sprinted across the yard, sliding into the mud and throwing my arms around my mother.
She was sobbing hysterically, but she was alive. She was safe.
Luca didn't look at his fallen uncle. He ran straight to Marco, dropping to his knees and tearing open his brother’s shirt to inspect the gunshot wound.
"It's a through-and-through," Luca said quickly, applying pressure with his own expensive suit jacket. "You're going to live, brother."
Marco coughed, a weak smile touching his lips. "I told you... I wouldn't sell my son."
Luca nodded, his dark eyes shining with an emotion I had never seen in him before. "I know. You're home, Marco."
The yard was a flurry of chaotic, controlled action. Luca’s men zip-tied Peter and Vanessa, dragging them screaming toward waiting vans.
Luca stood up, his hands covered in his brother’s blood, and walked over to me.
He helped me and my mother up from the mud.
"It's over," Luca said softly, looking down at me.
I nodded, unable to speak through my tears.
But as the adrenaline began to fade, a sharp, terrifying realization hit me.
"Luca," I gasped, looking around the yard. "Where is the watch? The gold watch!"
Luca frowned, looking at the empty stretch of concrete where he had been standing.
The gold pocket watch was gone.
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And standing twenty feet away, slipping the heavy gold timepiece into the pocket of his dark suit, was a man I had never seen before.
He tipped his fedora to Luca, smiled a chilling, empty smile, and melted away into the thick fog.
