Chapter 7 - THE RAIN-SLICKED ROOF
The storm outside had escalated into a full-blown hurricane. Heavy sheets of rain lashed against the loading docks of the harbor.
Isabella ran. Her white silk corset was soaked, plastered to her skin, her heels long discarded. She clutched the heavy black ledger to her chest like a newborn child.
She just needed to make it to Pier 4. A private speedboat was waiting to take her to international waters. She would sell the ledger to the Russians, rebuild her uncle’s empire, and make the Morettis suffer.
She reached the wooden planks of the pier, gasping for breath. The boat was there, bobbing violently in the dark water.
“Leaving so soon, darling?”
Isabella spun around.
Luca walked slowly out of the shadows of a shipping container. He was drenched in rain and blood, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side, his right hand gripping his pistol. He looked like the grim reaper in a ruined tuxedo.
“Stay back!” Isabella shrieked, holding the book out over the churning black water. “I’ll drop it! Millions of dollars, decades of blackmail—gone into the ocean!”
“Drop it,” Luca said, taking another slow step forward.
Isabella hesitated. She had expected him to beg, to negotiate. That was how mafia men operated. Money above all.
“You’re bluffing,” she sneered. “Without this book, your family has no leverage. The politicians will turn on you. The feds will seize everything.”
“I know,” Luca said.
He didn’t stop walking.
“I’ve hated the blood on this money since I was a boy,” Luca said, his voice carrying over the thunder. “My father built a cage of gold, and I’ve been trapped in it my whole life. I was going to use this wedding to legitimize the business. To finally wash our hands.”
Isabella laughed bitterly. “There is no washing your hands, Luca! We are monsters! We take what we want!”
“No,” Luca corrected softly. “You take. I protect.”
Isabella realized the book was useless as leverage. Desperation clouded her eyes. She reached to the small of her back, pulling a silver derringer she had taped to her thigh.
She aimed it squarely at Luca’s head.
“Then die a monster,” she screamed.
A single shot rang out across the harbor.
Isabella froze. Her eyes went wide. She looked down.
A bloom of red was spreading across her white silk bodice.
Luca hadn’t fired. His gun was still lowered.
Isabella swayed on her feet, the derringer falling from her hand, bouncing off the pier, and splashing into the water. The heavy black ledger slipped from her fingers, tumbling over the edge. It hit the dark waves and was swallowed instantly by the sea.
Isabella looked past Luca, her lips trembling.
Standing fifty yards away, on the roof of the harbormaster’s office, was Mia.
She was holding Elias’s heavy sniper rifle. The barrel was still smoking in the rain.
Isabella’s knees buckled. She collapsed onto the wet wood, her eyes fixed on the sky as the rain washed the makeup from her face. Within seconds, she was perfectly still.
Luca stood in the rain, staring at the dead woman who was supposed to be his wife. He felt nothing. No grief, no anger. Just a profound, crushing emptiness.
Then, he heard the sound of footsteps running down the wooden pier.
He turned. Mia dropped the rifle and ran toward him. She practically threw herself into his arms. Luca hissed in pain as she hit his injured shoulder, but he didn’t care. He dropped his gun and wrapped his good arm around her waist, burying his face in her wet hair.
“You shot her,” Luca breathed, almost in disbelief.
Mia pulled back, her hands framing his face. She was crying, but her eyes were fierce.
“I told you,” Mia said, her voice shaking but resolute. “I’m a mother. And you’re the man who saved my son. Nobody touches my family.”
Luca stared at her. Family. The word had always meant obligation, violence, and blood. But coming from her lips, it sounded like salvation.
He leaned down and kissed her. It tasted of rain, tears, and gunpowder.
“Luca!”
They broke apart. Elias was pulling up to the pier in the armored SUV, little Leo pressing his face against the backseat window.
“The police are two minutes out!” Elias shouted over the storm. “We have to go!”
May you like
Luca looked at the dark water where the ledger had sunk. The Moretti criminal empire was gone. The blackmail, the bribes, the blood money—all washed away.
“Let them come,” Luca said, turning to Mia and taking her hand. “I’m a free man.”
