Chapter 7 - THE RAIN-SOAKED CONFESSION
I stared through the pouring rain, unable to comprehend the impossible scene in front of me.
My mother lowered the heavy shotgun, her hands completely steady despite her illness.
Carlo Vitale writhed on the wet cobblestones, clutching his shattered knee, screaming obscenities in Italian.
“Mom?” I choked out, taking a step toward her.
Clara smiled, her tired eyes filled with a fierce, protective light.
“I told you I’d never let anyone hurt you, Emily,” she said softly.
Before I could reach her, the side door of the restaurant burst open.
Luca charged into the alley, his gun drawn, coughing slightly from the smoke of the flare that had been lit inside.
He saw Carlo bleeding on the ground, then leveled his weapon at Vanessa.
“Give me one reason not to put a bullet in you right now,” Luca growled, his dark eyes burning with pure lethal intent.
Vanessa didn’t flinch.
She stood holding the umbrella over my mother, her expensive clothes soaked by the storm.
“Because I’m the one who broke her out of Carlo’s safehouse,” Vanessa said, her voice shaking but resolute.
Luca froze.
“What?”
Vanessa stepped forward, out from under the umbrella, letting the rain wash over her face.
“When my father forced me to set up the sale of this restaurant tonight, I thought it was just business,” Vanessa cried. “I thought we were just stealing real estate! But when you kicked me out of the mansion, my father called me. He told me Carlo had kidnapped Clara and was going to burn you alive inside the restaurant.”
She looked at the ground, tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks.
“I’m a thief, Luca,” Vanessa wept. “I’m a liar, and I used you. But I am not a murderer. I couldn’t let them kill you.”
Luca lowered his gun a fraction of an inch.
“You brought the adoption file to my apartment,” my mother spoke up, looking at Vanessa.
Clara turned her wheelchair toward Luca.
“She came to the apartment to warn me, Luca,” Clara explained. “But Carlo’s men were already there. Vanessa hid in the hallway, watched them take me, and followed their car to a warehouse on the South Side. She waited until the guards stepped outside to smoke, sneaked in, and wheeled me out the back door.”
I looked at Vanessa.
The woman who had poured wine on me just hours ago.
She had risked her life to save my mother.
“Why didn’t you just call the police?” Luca asked, his voice harsh but lacking its previous venom.
“Because Carlo owns the police in this district!” Vanessa shouted. “If I called them, they would have tipped him off! I had to drive Clara here to stop you from walking into the trap!”
Michael suddenly rounded the corner of the alley, sprinting through the puddles.
He saw Carlo on the ground and pulled his own weapon, aiming it at the Italian businessman.
“You set the charges inside?” Michael roared at Carlo.
Carlo spat blood onto the bricks.
“The timers are set,” Carlo wheezed, a vicious grin twisting his face. “You have three minutes before this entire block turns into a crater. You lose, Moretti.”
Luca grabbed Carlo by the lapels of his soaked suit and hoisted him halfway off the ground.
“Where is the main charge?” Luca demanded.
Carlo just laughed.
Luca dropped him, turning to Michael.
“Get Clara and Vanessa out of here,” Luca ordered. “Get them blocks away. Now.”
“What about you?” Michael shouted over the rain.
“I’m finding the bomb.”
“Luca, no!” I screamed, grabbing his arm. “It’s just a building! Let it burn!”
Luca looked down at me.
His hand gently brushed the wet hair out of my face.
“It isn’t just a building, Emily,” Luca said quietly. “It’s our father’s legacy. It’s the only piece of him we have left. And I am not letting these bastards take it from us.”
He turned and ran back into the dark restaurant.
“Luca!” Michael yelled, taking a step forward.
“Take your mother and go!” I shoved Michael toward Clara’s wheelchair.
Before Michael could stop me, I turned and sprinted through the side door, following Luca into the darkness.
The inside of the restaurant smelled strongly of gasoline and sulfur.
The emergency flare was burning out near the front host stand, casting eerie red shadows across the empty tables and chairs.
“Luca!” I coughed, covering my mouth with my sleeve.
“I told you to stay out there!” Luca shouted from behind the heavy wooden bar.
I ran over to him.
He was kneeling behind the bar, tearing open the wooden cabinets.
“Where would he hide it?” Luca muttered frantically, tossing bottles of expensive liquor onto the floor.
“He said he set the charges,” I reasoned, trying to think clearly through the panic. “Plural. He wants to bring the whole building down. He wouldn’t put it in the dining room.”
I looked around the dark restaurant.
My eyes landed on the heavy metal door leading to the basement wine cellar.
“The foundation,” I gasped. “He’d put it in the cellar to drop the floor.”
Luca didn’t hesitate.
He sprinted toward the metal door, kicked it open, and practically flew down the wooden stairs.
I followed right behind him.
The cellar was pitch black.
Luca clicked on a small tactical flashlight.
The beam swept across rows of dusty wine racks.
Sitting in the exact center of the stone floor was a massive canvas duffel bag.
Wires spilled out of the top, connected to a digital timer taped to the side.
The red numbers were glowing brightly in the dark.
01:42.
One minute and forty-two seconds.
Luca dropped to his knees in front of the bag.
He pulled a pocket knife from his coat.
“Emily, run,” Luca ordered, his voice dead calm. “Run as fast as you can. Do not look back.”
“I’m not leaving you!” I cried, dropping to my knees beside him.
“Emily, I don’t know how to defuse this!” Luca shouted, turning to me with terror in his eyes. “I’m going to guess. If I’m wrong, we die. Get out of here!”
I looked at the timer.
01:28.
I looked at the wires.
Red. Blue. Yellow. Green.
A tangled mess of plastic and copper.
“It’s a standard commercial demolition charge,” I whispered, recognizing the setup from a documentary I had watched with my mother years ago. “Carlo didn’t build this. He bought it.”
Luca looked at me. “How do you know that?”
“Because it has a failsafe loop,” I said, pointing to a thick white wire looped around the detonator cap. “If you cut the colored wires, it triggers the secondary battery.”
00:59.
“So what do I cut?” Luca asked, his hand trembling slightly as he held the knife over the bag.
I stared at the wires.
If I was wrong, my new brother would die. I would die.
I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.
“Cut the white wire,” I said.
Luca didn’t ask if I was sure.
He didn’t doubt me.
He slipped the blade of the knife under the thick white wire.
He looked into my eyes.
“I’m glad I found you, Emily,” Luca whispered.
He sliced the wire.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the fire.
Silence.
I opened my eyes.
The red numbers on the timer had stopped.
00:14.
We sat in the damp cellar, the silence rushing in to fill the terrifying void.
Luca dropped the knife.
He fell back against the stone wall, letting out a massive, shuddering breath.
Then he reached over and pulled me into a crushing hug.
We were alive.
The restaurant was safe.
But as we sat in the dark, my foot brushed against something hidden beneath the bottom wine rack.
I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight.
Shining the light under the rack, I saw a dusty, heavy iron lockbox.
It had been hidden there for years.
I reached under and dragged it out.
May you like
Engraved on the lid was a single word.
Lorenzo.
