Chapter 6 - THE ACTRESS
The freezing wind suddenly felt like ice in my veins. I stared at the woman standing on the brightly lit porch holding Leo’s small hand. Natalie. The woman who had wept openly in the dining room. The woman who had claimed she spent twelve years searching for her sister. The woman whose grief had seemed so profoundly real that it broke Luca’s heart. “My sister died ten years ago!” Caroline’s hysterical words echoed in the darkness. Luca slowly stood up from the snow. The heartbreak in his eyes instantly morphed into a cold, terrifying calculation. The mafia boss had returned. “Emily,” Luca said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. “Stay here with Caroline. Do not let her out of your sight.” He didn't run this time. He walked. With heavy, deliberate steps, Luca marched across the frozen lawn toward the mansion, his silhouette cutting a path of pure menace through the night. I knelt beside Caroline, wrapping my arms tightly around her trembling frame. “You’re safe,” I whispered, rubbing her arms to generate heat. “I won't let anyone hurt you.” Caroline clung to my cardigan, her blue eyes fixed on the porch. “She’s not Natalie,” she mumbled frantically, shivering against me. “Natalie died in a car crash when we were in college. That woman... she was at the clinic. She was the nurse who gave me the injections.” My stomach plummeted. The layers of Vanessa’s deception were far deeper than any of us had realized. I watched from the shadows as Luca reached the front steps. Natalie saw him coming. She let go of Leo’s hand and took a step forward, a relieved smile crossing her face. “Luca! Did you find her? Is she okay?” Luca didn't answer. He reached the top step, his massive hand shooting out with blinding speed. He grabbed Natalie by the throat, hoisting her backward until she slammed hard against one of the thick marble pillars of the porch. Leo screamed, covering his eyes. “Who the hell are you?” Luca roared, his grip tightening. Natalie gagged, her hands clawing desperately at his thick fingers. “Luca—please—it’s me, Natalie—” “Caroline doesn't have a sister!” Luca bellowed, shaking her against the stone. “Caroline’s sister is dead! You were at the clinic! Who are you?!” The facade crumbled instantly. The weeping, victimized sister vanished. Natalie’s eyes rolled wildly. “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you! Please, I can't breathe!” Luca loosened his grip just enough to let her gasp for air, but kept her pinned to the pillar. “My name is Jessica,” the blonde woman choked out, tears of genuine panic streaming down her face. “I’m an actress. Vanessa hired me. She paid me fifty thousand dollars to play the part of Caroline’s sister tonight.” “Why?” Luca demanded. Jessica swallowed hard, looking terrified. “Vanessa said she needed a dramatic distraction. She knew you were getting suspicious about the missing money from the family accounts. She needed you completely emotionally derailed tonight so you wouldn't notice the transfer.” Luca froze. “What transfer?” “The offshore accounts,” Jessica cried. “Vanessa and Marco didn't just want you out of the way. They’ve been siphoning millions from the Moretti syndicate for six years. Tonight, during the dinner party, Marco was supposed to initiate the final wire transfer to a Swiss bank. They were going to drain your entire empire, blame the theft on you, and tip off the feds.” The sheer magnitude of the betrayal hung heavy in the air. Vanessa hadn't just orchestrated a murder; she had planned a complete corporate coup to steal a criminal empire. “And Caroline?” Luca asked, his voice deathly quiet. “She was the insurance policy,” Jessica wept. “Vanessa told me you would be so obsessed with finding out the truth about your wife being alive that you wouldn't check your phones or your security feeds. The greenhouse... it was just meant to keep you busy while Marco finished the transfer.” Luca dropped Jessica to the ground. She collapsed onto the marble, gasping for breath. He turned to Leo, who was trembling by the doorway. Luca gently picked his son up, holding him tightly to his chest. “Emily!” Luca shouted across the lawn. “Bring her inside! Now!” I helped Caroline to her feet. She was weak, leaning heavily against my shoulder, but the fresh air had cleared some of the fog from her mind. We hurried across the snow, stepping past the sobbing actress on the porch, and entered the warmth of the grand foyer. The mansion was eerily quiet. “Where are the guards?” I asked, realizing the three loyal men Luca had left behind to watch Vanessa and Marco were nowhere to be seen. Luca set Leo down behind me. “Stay with them, Emily.” He drew a heavy silver knife from his boot—a weapon he had kept hidden even from Vanessa. He stepped cautiously toward the closed double doors of the drawing room. He kicked the doors open. The room was in shambles. The heavy antique chair Vanessa had been tied to was smashed to pieces. The radiator where Marco had been handcuffed was covered in blood. But the room was empty. Vanessa and Marco were gone. On the floor, unconscious and bleeding from severe head wounds, lay Luca’s three loyal guards. “They got loose,” Luca muttered, his jaw clenched tight. Suddenly, a cold, metallic click echoed from the grand staircase behind us. We all turned slowly. Standing halfway up the sweeping marble staircase was Marco. His face was a bloody, bruised mess from where Luca had beaten him, but his eyes were bright with a manic, desperate energy. In his right hand, he held a sleek, black submachine gun. He had raided the estate’s armory. And standing beside him, holding a small leather ledger tightly to her chest, was Vanessa. Her red silk dress was torn, her hair wild, but a triumphant smirk painted her face. “The transfer is complete, Luca,” Vanessa announced, her voice echoing through the massive foyer. “Two hundred million dollars. Untraceable.” “You’re a dead woman, Vanessa,” Luca said, stepping in front of Caroline, Leo, and me to shield us. Vanessa laughed. “I don't think so, darling. We have the money. We have the ledger detailing every illegal deal you’ve ever made. The police are already on their way, responding to an anonymous tip about a mob boss murdering his fiancée and security team.” Marco raised the submachine gun, aiming it directly at Luca’s chest. “It’s over, Boss,” Marco sneered, spitting blood onto the marble steps. “Say goodbye to the wife you spent six years crying over.” Marco’s finger tightened on the trigger. And in that split second, I realized exactly what I had to do. I didn't scream. I didn't cower. I reached behind me, my fingers blindly finding the heavy brass switch on the foyer wall—the master breaker for the east wing chandelier. I yanked it down. The grand foyer plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness just as the deafening roar of automatic gunfire erupted from the staircase.
