Chapter 7 - THE ASHES OF BETRAYAL
The sky above the Southside estate was stained a violent, glowing orange.
By the time Luca’s convoy tore through the wrought-iron gates of the mansion, the detached garage was entirely engulfed in flames. Plumes of thick, toxic black smoke billowed into the freezing rain.
Fire sirens wailed in the distance, but they were too far away. The old wooden structure, built by Antonio Moretti’s hands thirty years ago, was acting like a tinderbox.
Luca threw the SUV door open before the vehicle had even completely stopped. He sprinted toward the inferno, his eyes wild with panic.
“Dad, no!” Matteo screamed from the backseat, struggling against Claire’s grip.
“Stay in the car!” Claire yelled, locking the doors and pulling the terrified boy into her arms. She watched through the rain-streaked window as Luca tried to charge into the burning building, only to be thrown back by the sheer force of the heat.
Two of his men tackled him to the wet grass to stop him from running back in.
“Let me go!” Luca roared, fighting them off. “My father’s things are in there!”
Through the roaring flames, a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was Vanessa.
Her expensive wedding gown was covered in soot, the delicate lace scorched and torn. Her face was smudged with ash, her perfectly styled hair a wild, singed mess. She was coughing violently, clutching a heavy metal lockbox to her chest.
She staggered out of the burning garage and collapsed onto the driveway, gasping for air.
Luca shoved his men off and walked slowly toward her. The firelight cast demonic shadows across his face.
Vanessa looked up at him, a twisted, hysterical laugh escaping her raw throat.
“I found it,” she croaked, holding up the metal lockbox. “The hidden floorboard. Your stupid father wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.”
Luca didn’t look at the box. He looked at the burning garage. The roof groaned violently before caving in with an explosive crash, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky.
The last physical memory of Antonio Moretti was gone.
Luca knelt beside Vanessa in the mud. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating from him.
“You burned down my father’s legacy for a box of paper,” Luca whispered.
Vanessa’s hysterical smile faded, replaced by desperate malice. “It’s not just paper, Luca. It’s the ledger. It’s the proof of every politician your family bought. Every crime Antonio committed. I’m giving this to the feds tomorrow unless you sign the estate over to me. All of it.”
Luca stared at her. He didn’t yell. He didn’t strike her.
He just reached out and took the metal lockbox from her hands. It was old, covered in rust and soot. It didn’t even have a lock on it.
“Open it,” Vanessa sneered. “Go ahead. Look at your family’s ruin.”
Luca unlatched the rusty hinges and popped the lid open.
He tipped the box forward so Vanessa could see inside.
The box was completely empty. Except for a single, faded Polaroid photograph.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in confusion. She reached in and snatched the photo.
It was a picture of a young Vanessa, holding a duffel bag full of cash, standing next to Antonio Moretti.
On the white border of the Polaroid, written in Antonio’s elegant cursive, were the words: Paid the Falcone girl $500,000 to leave my son alone. She took the money. She will never be family.
Vanessa’s breath hitched. “No… no, the ledger was supposed to be here! Elias said—”
“Elias is an idiot, and so are you,” Luca said coldly. “My father knew exactly what you were ten years ago. He paid you off to disappear. When you ran out of money, you came back, thinking I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know!” she shrieked, scrambling backward in the mud. “You were going to marry me today!”
“I was keeping you close,” Luca corrected, standing up to his full height. “Because I needed to know who you were working with. I needed you to lead me to Dominic. And tonight, you did exactly what I wanted.”
Vanessa looked around. The fire trucks were finally pulling into the driveway, their red and blue lights flashing against the mansion walls. But right behind them were four black sedans with federal license plates.
Agents in tactical gear began swarming the property.
Vanessa laughed. “You called the feds on yourself? You’re going to prison with me, Luca!”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Luca said, turning his back on her. “Because twenty minutes ago, I handed the real ledger over to the district attorney. I traded my father’s dirt on the Falcone family for complete immunity for the Morettis. The feds aren’t here for me, Vanessa. They’re here for you and Dominic.”
Two federal agents grabbed Vanessa by the arms, hauling her roughly to her feet.
“You can’t do this!” she screamed, kicking wildly as they dragged her toward a cruiser. “I’m your wife! We signed the papers!”
“Check the signature, sweetheart,” Luca called out over his shoulder. “You forged my name on a demolition order yesterday. I forged yours on the annulment papers this afternoon.”
Vanessa’s screams faded behind the slammed door of a police cruiser.
Luca stood alone in the rain, watching the firemen hose down the smoking ruins of his father’s garage. He looked completely drained. The empire was safe, his enemies were destroyed, but the cost was sitting in a pile of wet ashes.
Claire unbuckled Matteo from the car and carried him through the rain toward Luca.
When Luca saw them, he dropped to his knees in the mud. He wrapped his arms around both of them, burying his face in Claire’s shoulder.
“It’s over,” he whispered, his voice finally breaking. “It’s all over.”
Claire held him tightly, the fierce mafia boss weeping quietly in the rain. She looked past his shoulder at the smoking wreckage.
“Luca,” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“You said your father moved the ledger eight years ago to the boat house.”
“He did.”
“Then… what does the iron key in the wooden box open?”
Luca froze. He pulled back, looking at her in confusion.
“What iron key?” he asked.
Claire reached into her coat and pulled out the heavy skeleton key she had found in the false bottom of Matteo’s wooden box.
“This one,” she said. “The one you hid in the box.”
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Luca stared at the key. The blood drained from his face.
“Claire,” Luca whispered. “I didn’t put that in there.”
