Chapter 7 - THE BROOCH
"Let her go, Michael," Luca said, his voice dangerously low. He kept his weapon raised, perfectly steady, aimed right between his brother's eyes.
Teresa looked terrified, her silver hair disheveled, but she stood as tall as she could. "Don't drop the gun, Luca. Shoot him."
Michael laughed, tightening his grip on her arm. She winced. "Listen to the old bird. Still trying to play the matriarch, even when her brain is rotting out of her skull."
"Her brain is fine," I spat out, stepping out from behind Luca. "We know about the neurotoxin, Michael. We know you paid my mother to put it on her clothes. We have the vial."
Michael’s smile slipped for a fraction of a second. "Grace. I always thought you were too smart to be scrubbing toilets. A shame you won't live to put that intelligence to use."
"We have the blue ledger, Michael," Catherine stepped forward.
Michael stared at the woman he had threatened to kill twenty years ago. The resemblance between her and their father was undeniable.
"Ah. The bastard returns," Michael sneered. "I should have drowned you in the lake when I had the chance. It would have saved me a lot of trouble."
"Like you pushed our father down the stairs?" Luca asked.
Michael shrugged. "The old man was weak. He wanted to give the empire to a kid who didn't understand how the real world worked. I did what had to be done to protect the family."
"You destroyed the family!" Luca roared. "You sold out our own men to the feds! You poisoned our mother!"
"And I'm going to kill her right now unless you drop the gun!" Michael screamed, pressing the barrel harder against Teresa's temple. "Drop it! Kick it over here!"
Luca hesitated. He looked at his mother.
Teresa looked back at him. Her eyes were clear. She wasn't the confused, timid woman from the dinner table.
She reached up with her free hand and touched the silver brooch pinned to her collar. The one her husband had given her.
"Luca," Teresa said softly. "Do you remember what your father always said about this brooch?"
Michael frowned, confused by the sudden change in subject. "Shut up, old woman."
Luca's eyes flicked to the silver pin. "He said... the clasp was sharp."
"Very sharp," Teresa agreed.
In one sudden, violent motion, Teresa ripped the heavy silver brooch from her dress and drove the thick, sharp pin directly into the back of Michael's gun hand.
Michael shrieked in pain, his fingers involuntarily opening. The gun dropped to the carpet with a dull thud.
Luca didn't hesitate.
He lunged forward, closing the distance in a split second, and drove his fist into Michael's jaw. The crack of bone echoed down the hallway. Michael collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Teresa gasped for air, leaning against the wall.
Luca grabbed his mother, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "I've got you, Mom. I've got you."
I ran over and kicked Michael's gun down the hall.
Catherine stood beside me, looking down at the brother who had terrorized her family for decades. "It's over."
Sirens wailed right outside the mansion walls now. Red and blue lights flashed through the hallway windows.
"The police are here," I said.
Luca pulled back from his mother and looked at Michael's unconscious body. "Let them come. Captain Harris knows what to do."
Two weeks later.
The Moretti mansion was quiet. The broken gates had been replaced, the scorch marks on the lawn reseeded.
I walked into the east bedroom. The massive room with the beautiful garden view.
Teresa's heavy, carved wooden bed was back in its rightful place. Her photographs were arranged perfectly on the nightstand. The silver flowers Vanessa had bought were gone, replaced by fresh roses from the garden.
Teresa was sitting in her reading chair by the window, a cup of tea in her hand.
"Good morning, Mrs. Moretti," I said, carrying in a stack of folded linens.
She smiled warmly. "Good morning, Grace. Please, I told you, call me Teresa."
I smiled back. The neurotoxin was completely out of her system. Her mind was sharper than ever.
Luca walked into the room, dressed in a casual sweater instead of his usual tailored suits. He looked ten years younger.
"The lawyers just called," Luca said, leaning against the doorframe. "Michael signed the confession. He's taking the plea deal. Thirty years, no parole. Vanessa turned state's evidence against her father's capos. She's in witness protection in Omaha."
"Good riddance," Teresa said, taking a sip of her tea.
Luca turned to me. "And your mother?"
I looked down. "She's settling into the assisted living facility. Dad visits her every day. It's... going to take a long time to forgive her. But she's getting the real help she needs."
"And your father?"
"He's happy," I said, feeling a genuine smile touch my lips. "He's back to doing taxes. Legally, this time."
Catherine walked into the bedroom, carrying a small tray of cookies. She set them on the table beside Teresa.
"Thank you, dear," Teresa said, patting Catherine's hand.
It was strange, but beautiful, seeing them together. The family had finally stopped keeping secrets.
Luca walked over to me and held out a small envelope.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Your final paycheck," Luca said.
My heart dropped. "You're firing me?"
Luca laughed. "Grace, you saved my mother's life. You brought my sister back to me. You are never scrubbing another floor in this house."
I opened the envelope. Inside was a check for a sum of money I couldn't even comprehend, and a set of keys.
"Those are the keys to West Addison," Catherine explained gently. "My father left it to me, but I have my own life now. I want you and Thomas to have it. Your father kept it safe for twenty years. It's your home now."
Tears pricked my eyes. I looked from Catherine, to Luca, to Teresa.
"I don't know what to say," I whispered.
Teresa stood up and walked over to me. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight.
"You don't have to say anything, Grace," Teresa said softly. "Just come back and visit us for dinner on Sundays. That's what family does."
May you like
I closed my fingers around the keys to West Addison.
"I will," I promised. "I definitely will."
