Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR IN THE LIGHT
The metallic slam of the lock echoed in the dark.
For three seconds, nobody breathed.
Then Luca hit the door.
His shoulder slammed into the thick oak with the force of a battering ram.
The wood groaned, but the heavy iron hinges didn’t give.
“Marco!” Luca shouted, hitting it again.
Outside, the rain pounded relentlessly.
We were trapped in a ten-by-ten stone shed.
Luca, the dying driver Elias, an exhausted German shepherd, and me.
I clicked on my phone’s flashlight.
The battery was at twelve percent.
“Why did he lock us in?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“If he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just shoot you?”
Luca backed away from the door, his chest heaving.
He smoothed his ruined suit jacket, forcing his composure back into place.
“Because Marco doesn’t kill without a reason. He’s a soldier.”
Elias coughed violently in the corner.
“Marco... was the one,” the old man gasped.
“The night Michael died. Marco was supposed to drive the second car to Montreal. He was the only other one who knew about the boy.”
Luca turned to Elias, the phone’s light casting harsh shadows on his face.
“Marco knew about Leo? For eleven years, my head of security knew I had a brother and never told me?”
“He swore an oath to your father,” Elias said weakly.
“Michael didn’t trust you, Luca. You were young. Reckless. You wanted to merge with the Bellini family.”
The bitter truth hung in the damp air.
Michael hadn’t trusted his own heir.
Suddenly, the crackle of a radio speaker broke the silence.
It was coming from Luca’s pocket.
He had pulled Marco’s spare radio earlier that evening.
Luca pressed the button.
“Marco. Open this door.”
Static hissed.
Then, Marco’s voice came through, calm and professional.
“I can’t do that, sir. You’re safer in there.”
“Safer from what?”
“From the guests.”
My blood ran cold.
The forty elite guests in the dining room.
“Vanessa didn’t run to the gates,” Marco’s voice continued over the radio.
“She went back inside. She’s locked down the dining room. Her father’s men were posing as the catering staff. They just drew weapons on your capos.”
An ambush.
The anniversary dinner was a trap.
Vanessa’s family hadn’t come to celebrate peace; they had come to slaughter the Moretti leadership in one room.
“Let me out, Marco,” Luca ordered.
“My men are in there.”
“Your men are holding the line in the east wing,” Marco replied.
“But the Bellinis are looking for you. If I hadn’t locked you in the shed, you would have walked right back into a crossfire.”
“You pointed a gun at my chest!”
“I had to make sure you didn’t follow me,” Marco said simply.
“Stay quiet. I’m coming to get you out. I just have to secure the package first.”
“What package?” Luca demanded.
The radio went dead.
I looked at Luca.
“What does he mean, package?”
Before Luca could answer, Atlas stood up.
The old dog limped to the small, grated air vent near the ceiling.
He began to whine. A high-pitched, desperate sound.
“Atlas, shh,” I whispered, terrified the men outside would hear him.
But Atlas didn’t stop.
He barked. Loudly.
Suddenly, a face appeared at the iron grate outside.
It wasn’t one of the armed men.
It wasn’t Marco.
It was a little girl.
She looked about ten years old.
Soaking wet. Pale. Wearing a yellow raincoat that was entirely too big for her.
She peered down through the grate into the darkness of the shed.
Her eyes locked onto the German shepherd.
“Atlas?” she whispered.
Atlas let out a joyous yelp, standing on his hind legs, scratching at the stone wall beneath the grate.
Luca stepped forward, shining the light up at her face.
“Who are you?” he asked gently.
The little girl didn’t look at him.
She reached her tiny hand through the iron bars.
Dangling from her fingers was a heavy silver bracelet.
It matched the exact design of the watch in Luca’s pocket.
“My name is Mia,” the girl said, her voice shaking but clear.
“Marco told me to wait here. He said you would have the dog.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he looked at Elias.
“I thought you said the child was a boy. Leo.”
Elias smiled a sad, painful smile.
“Leo is her middle name. Eleonora. Your father knew Vanessa would hunt a boy. So he let everyone believe she gave birth to a son.”
I stared at the little girl in the rain.
Vanessa’s secret wasn’t a brother.
It was a sister.
And suddenly, the heavy padlock on the shed door rattled.
May you like
Someone was unlocking it from the outside.
TITLE: The Bloodstained Coat
