Chapter 5 - THE TRAIN TICKET
“Put the poker down, Emma,” Marco said. His voice was calm, deadpan, the same voice he used when ordering catering for Luca’s meetings.
Bruno lunged forward, barking furiously, planting himself between me and the gun.
“Call the dog off,” Marco warned, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind him. “Or I put him down first.”
“No!” Leo screamed from behind me, grabbing my legs.
“It’s okay, Bruno. Stay,” I commanded, my voice trembling. The dog stopped barking, but the low, menacing growl never ceased. I lowered the iron poker just an inch, my mind racing.
“You intercepted the boy,” I said, staring at the square ring on Marco’s finger. “You took him from the hospital.”
Marco’s face tightened. “Alessandro’s wife died three days ago. She mailed a letter to the estate right before she passed, telling Luca about the boy. I open all the mail. I saw the opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” I spat. “To sell out your boss? To torture a child?”
“To get out!” Marco snapped, losing his cool for a fraction of a second. “Do you know what happens to guys like me when they get old, Emma? We get a bullet. Vanessa offered me two million dollars to quietly dispose of the kid before Luca ever knew he existed. I was supposed to drop him at an orphanage in Indiana. But she intercepted me. She wanted to keep him close as leverage until the wedding.”
“And my mother?” I demanded, the fear for my family boiling over into anger. “Why was he supposed to go to the red door? Why my mother’s building?”
Marco let out a dark, humorless laugh.
“You really don't know, do you?” he said. “Your mother didn’t just stumble into being a landlord, Emma. Twenty years ago, she was the head housekeeper for Luca’s father. She practically raised Alessandro and Luca. When Alessandro’s wife ran away, she went to your mother for help. Your mother has been hiding them for five years.”
The room spun.
My mother. The quiet, exhausted woman who always told me to keep my head down and work hard. She had been protecting the mafia boss’s wife and child this entire time. And she got me the job working for Luca so she could keep an eye on the family from the inside.
“Where is my mother, Marco?” I asked, gripping the poker tighter.
“She’s safe. For now,” Marco said. He pulled a thick white envelope from his suit pocket and tossed it onto the bed. “That’s why I’m here. Vanessa didn't just pay me. She gave me a contingency plan.”
I glanced at the envelope.
“Open it,” he ordered.
Keeping one eye on his gun, I reached over with my left hand and pulled the flap open.
Inside were two one-way train tickets to Montreal, Canada. Departing tonight at 2:00 AM.
One ticket had Marco’s name on it.
The other had Vanessa’s.
“She’s not planning to marry him,” I realized, the puzzle pieces clicking together.
“She never was,” Marco sneered. “Vanessa’s father is Don Bellini, Luca’s biggest rival. The engagement was a Trojan horse. Tonight, while everyone was distracted by the party, Vanessa’s crew was supposed to empty Luca’s private vault downstairs. They’re stealing fifty million in untraceable bearer bonds, and then she’s gone. And I’m going with her.”
“Then why are you up here?” I asked.
“Because Vanessa got sloppy. She didn't expect you to find the dog, or the kid. Now the timeline is moved up.” Marco raised the gun, pointing it directly at Leo. “I can’t leave witnesses, Emma. Hand over the boy.”
“Over my dead body,” I said, raising the iron poker.
“That’s the idea,” Marco replied.
He pulled the trigger.
But as the silenced shot phutted through the air, Bruno launched himself off the floor.
The seventy-pound German shepherd slammed into Marco’s chest. The bullet missed my head by inches, shattering the bathroom mirror behind me.
Marco screamed as Bruno’s jaws clamped down on his gun arm. They crashed to the floor, Marco desperately trying to pry the furious dog off him.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the heavy marble lamp from the bedside table, rushed forward, and smashed it down on the back of Marco’s head.
He went limp, instantly unconscious.
Bruno let go, panting heavily, pacing around the unconscious man.
I stood there, gasping for air, staring at the tickets on the bed. Vanessa wasn't just a cruel fiancée. She was a saboteur, leading a heist against the most powerful man in the city.
And then, the heavy oak door flew open again.
Luca stood there, his white shirt stained with blood. He looked at Marco’s unconscious body, then at the shattered mirror, then at me holding the broken lamp.
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“I leave you alone for ten minutes,” Luca breathed, stepping into the room.
“It’s a heist,” I blurted out, running to him and shoving the train tickets into his chest. “Vanessa. Marco. They’re robbing the vault tonight. And they have my mother.”
