Chapter 5 - THE BLOOD ON THE MARBLE
The grand foyer of the Moretti estate looked like a war zone.
Vincenzo kicked the massive double doors open, the heavy wood slamming against the marble walls. He was carrying Anna in his arms. Her dark-green canvas jacket was gone, replaced by Vincenzo’s expensive cashmere overcoat, which was rapidly turning a sickening, dark crimson.
“Get a doctor! Now!” Vincenzo roared, his voice shaking the crystal chandelier above us.
Marco was already on the phone, sprinting toward the kitchen to grab the trauma kit they kept for ‘off-the-books’ emergencies.
I rushed forward, leaving a trembling Audrey in the custody of two estate guards at the door. I guided Vincenzo to the long, antique velvet sofa in the center of the foyer. He laid Anna down with a gentleness that broke my heart.
She was so pale. Her short brown hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and rain. She was clutching her side, breathing in shallow, ragged gasps.
“Anna,” I whispered, pressing my hands over the wound to apply pressure. The blood was warm and terrifyingly fast. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Look at me.”
Anna’s eyes fluttered open. They were hazy, unfocused, until they landed on my face. She recognized me from Tuesday.
“Millie...” she choked out, coughing weakly.
“Millie is safe,” I promised her, pressing harder. “She’s upstairs. She’s safe.”
Vincenzo knelt beside the sofa, his hands stained red. The cold, calculated mafia boss was gone. In his place was a desperate father trying to save a child who wasn’t even his blood.
“I got to the foster home too late,” Vincenzo said, his voice raw. He wasn’t looking at me; he was staring at Anna’s pale face. “She was running down the fire escape. A black SUV was waiting in the alley. A man got out and shot her. I returned fire, and he drove off. I didn’t get a look at his face.”
“I know who it was,” I said, not taking my eyes off the wound. Marco slid beside me, ripping open a package of gauze and replacing my hands with a heavy pressure dressing.
Vincenzo looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Who?”
“Carlo.”
The name hung in the air like a live grenade. Vincenzo’s entire body went rigidly still.
“Audrey told us,” I explained rapidly, ignoring the gasp from the guards by the door. “Carlo ran Elena off the road five years ago. He paid Audrey to infiltrate your life and keep you distracted. Carlo shot Anna because she witnessed Elena’s murder.”
Answer one: Carlo was the traitor, and he was trying to silence the only witness to his betrayal.
Vincenzo slowly stood up. He turned around to face Audrey, who was shivering violently between the two guards. The look on Vincenzo’s face wasn’t anger. It was something far worse. It was the absolute, hollow void of a man who was about to scorch the earth.
He walked toward Audrey. She shrank back against the heavy oak doors, weeping.
“You knew,” Vincenzo whispered. “For five years, you slept in my bed, you wore my ring, and you knew the man who murdered my wife was standing in my dining room.”
“I had to, Vincenzo!” Audrey sobbed, falling to her knees. “He threatened to kill me! And when Millie was found, he threatened to kill her too! I hid her behind the lies. I pushed Anna away so Carlo wouldn’t realize there was a witness. I was protecting your daughter!”
“You protected yourself,” Vincenzo said coldly. He looked at the guards. “Take her to the cellar. Lock the door. If she screams, gag her.”
“Vincenzo, please!” Audrey begged as they dragged her away. “Carlo is making his move tonight! He knows you’re distracted! He’s coming for the house!”
The heavy doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off her cries.
Vincenzo stood in the center of the foyer, closing his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, the grief was gone, replaced by the lethal tactician that had made him the most feared man in the city.
“Marco,” Vincenzo barked. “Lock down the estate. Steel shutters on all windows. Arm every man we have. Nobody gets in.”
“Yes, boss,” Marco said, already grabbing his radio.
I looked back down at Anna. Her breathing was stabilizing thanks to the pressure dressing, but she was incredibly weak. She reached up with a trembling, bloodstained hand and grabbed my apron.
“Nell...” she whispered.
“I’m here, Anna. Don’t try to speak.”
“No... listen,” she gasped, her grip surprisingly strong. “I didn’t... I didn’t see him push the car.”
I froze. I leaned closer to her face. “What do you mean, sweetheart? Audrey said you were there.”
“I was there,” Anna wheezed, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I was hiding in the woods. I saw the car go over the edge. But... there was no truck. Nobody pushed her.”
Open two: If Carlo didn’t run Elena off the road, why was he trying so hard to kill Anna and silence Audrey?
“Anna, what did you see?” Vincenzo asked, dropping to his knees beside the sofa, his voice urgent but gentle.
May you like
Anna swallowed hard, a tear slipping down her pale cheek.
Cliffhanger: “She didn’t crash, Mr. Moretti,” Anna whispered, looking directly into Vincenzo’s eyes. “She parked the car at the edge of the cliff. And then... she threw the keys into the ravine, and she jumped.”
