Chapter 8 - THE GOLD SIGNET RING
Carlo spun around, firing wildly at Luca.
Luca didn't flinch. He dove behind a stone pillar as the bullets shattered vintage wine bottles, sending red liquid spilling across the floor like blood.
“You’re a dead man, Luca!” Carlo screamed, firing again. “My men are swarming the house! Give me the girl, sign over the trust, and I’ll let you live!”
“I’ll see you in hell first,” Luca roared back.
I knew we were trapped. The safe room was only ten feet away, hidden behind a false brick wall, but the heavy steel deadbolt had to be thrown manually from the inside, and it was mounted high on the door—too high for Sofia to reach from her wheelchair, and I couldn't leave her to lock it myself without exposing us to Carlo’s line of fire.
“Emily,” Sofia whispered, tugging on my apron. Her face was pale, but her eyes were fiercely determined. “Push me to the door. I can do it.”
“Sofia, you can't stand fast enough,” I whispered back, tears stinging my eyes.
“I have to,” she insisted. “For Daddy.”
I looked at the heavy steel door. I looked at Carlo, who was reloading his weapon, distracted by Luca’s suppressing fire.
“On three,” I breathed. “One. Two. Three!”
I shoved the wheelchair across the open gap.
Carlo saw the movement and swung his gun toward us. “No!”
Bang!
Luca fired, clipping Carlo in the shoulder. Carlo screamed, dropping his weapon, but lunged forward, grabbing my ankle as I reached the safe room door.
I fell hard onto the stone floor, the breath knocked out of me.
“Emily!” Sofia cried.
“Lock the door!” I yelled, kicking wildly at Carlo as he dragged me backward.
Sofia didn't hesitate. She grabbed the steel handle of the safe room door. She didn't try to stand slowly. She didn't think about her physical therapy or the pain in her spine.
Fueled by pure adrenaline and love, eleven-year-old Sofia pushed herself up from the wheelchair. Her legs shook violently, but they held.
She stood at full height, reached up, and slammed the heavy steel deadbolt across the frame.
The door sealed with a massive, echoing thud, locking her safely inside.
I looked up at Carlo, who was bleeding and furious, realizing he had just lost his only leverage.
Before he could raise his hands to strangle me, a shadow fell over us.
Luca grabbed Carlo by the collar of his expensive suit, hauling him off the ground with terrifying strength.
“You touched my daughter,” Luca whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal intent. “You touched my wife. You threatened my family.”
Luca drove his fist into Carlo’s jaw, knocking the older man out cold.
The cellar fell completely silent, save for the distant sirens of the Chicago police echoing from the streets above. Luca’s loyal men had secured the estate.
Luca dropped Carlo’s unconscious body and knelt beside me on the wine-soaked floor.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling me up gently.
“I’m fine,” I gasped. “Sofia... she stood up, Luca. She locked the door herself.”
Luca touched the steel safe room door. “Sofia? Sweetheart, it’s Daddy. It’s over.”
The heavy deadbolt slid back. The door creaked open.
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Sofia was sitting on the floor of the safe room, crying, but she was holding a thick, black leather book.
“Daddy,” she sniffled, holding it up. “I found this behind the emergency rations.”
