Chapter 5 - THE VELVET COAT
Gunfire erupted from the grounds outside, the heavy thud of automatic weapons shaking the glass of the bedroom windows.
Dante didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the heavy velvet coat he had wrapped around me in the alley and threw it over my shoulders again.
“Wrap Leo inside the coat. Keep his head covered,” Dante ordered, his voice terrifyingly calm amid the chaos.
I scooped the sleeping baby from his crib. Leo whimpered, waking up to the sounds of shouts and shattering glass downstairs, but I held him tight against my chest, wrapping the thick velvet firmly around his small body. The scent of cedar and Dante’s cologne seemed to soothe the boy slightly, though my own heart was beating fast enough to crack my ribs.
“Stay exactly behind me,” Dante said, gripping my shoulder for a second. “I just found you, Alina. I am not losing you tonight.”
We moved into the hallway. The estate was massive, a labyrinth of dark wood and marble, but Dante navigated it with lethal precision. Enzo took the lead, returning fire down the grand staircase as three men dressed in tactical gear breached the foyer.
“Through the kitchen! To the underground garage!” Enzo yelled, ducking as a bullet shattered a vase near his head.
Dante shoved me behind a stone pillar, firing twice. Two of the attackers dropped instantly. It was horrifying to witness, but as I clutched my nephew to my chest, a fierce, primal instinct flared inside me. I was a Moretti. I would not let them touch this child.
We sprinted through the industrial kitchen, bursting into a subterranean concrete garage. Dante ushered me into a heavily armored black G-Wagon.
Enzo took the wheel, peeling out of the hidden exit just as the garage doors began to buckle from an explosion above.
We drove in agonizing silence for twenty minutes, winding through back roads until we reached a desolate, abandoned warehouse district near the docks. Enzo pulled the SUV inside a rusted shipping container, plunging us into total darkness before turning on the dim interior lights.
Dante slumped back against the leather seat, exhaling a ragged breath. He looked over at me, his eyes quickly scanning Leo, who was now wide awake, staring up at me with large gray eyes.
“You did perfectly,” Dante whispered, reaching across the seat to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. It was an incredibly tender gesture for a man whose hands were covered in gunpowder. “You’re braver than most of my men.”
“She raised me to survive,” I whispered, looking down at the baby. “Dante, if Silas killed her in the hospital... why didn't he take the pendant?”
Dante stared at the dashboard. “Because she didn't have it on her. She knew he was coming. Where were you the night she died?”
I thought back to that agonizing night in June. “I was at the apartment. She had called me, frantic, telling me to pack my things and find the silver bird. She said I had to wear it, always.”
“She lured Silas to the hospital to buy you time,” Dante said softly, the weight of my mother’s sacrifice hanging heavy in the confined space. “She knew he was tracking her. She made sure you had the pendant before he could get to her.”
Answer one: My mother used her final breaths as a decoy to save me.
Tears spilled over my cheeks. I buried my face into Leo’s soft hair.
“But how did Silas find her after twenty-five years?” Enzo asked from the front seat, wiping blood from his brow. “Nora was a ghost. She never used a credit card, never bought property. Someone had to have tipped him off.”
I froze. My mind raced back to the weeks before my mother’s death. The endless doctor appointments, the paperwork.
“The police,” I said, my voice shaking. “When my mother died, a detective came to the apartment to notify me. He asked a lot of questions about her belongings. He even asked if she had left behind any jewelry.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What was his name?”
“Detective Rossi,” I said.
Enzo cursed violently in Italian. Dante’s fists clenched so hard his leather gloves creaked.
“Rossi is on Silas’s payroll,” Dante growled. “He’s the one who classified Nora’s death as natural to prevent an autopsy. He’s the one who’s been hunting you.”
I reached into the deep pocket of Dante’s velvet coat, shivering from the damp cold. My fingers brushed against something hard and metallic nestled deep in the lining.
I pulled it out.
It was a heavy, vintage gold pocket watch, its chain broken.
Dante stared at the watch in my hand, his breath catching. “Where did you get that?”
“It was in your coat pocket,” I said, confused.
“No, it wasn't,” Dante said, his voice dropping to a horrifying whisper. “That watch belongs to Silas. He never takes it off.”
I looked at the heavy coat draped over my shoulders. Dante hadn't been wearing it when he arrived at the restaurant. It had been brought to him.
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Open two: How did Silas’s watch end up in Dante’s coat?
“Enzo,” Dante said slowly, turning his weapon toward his oldest friend. “Who handed you my coat at the restaurant tonight?”
