The Maid, The Monster, and The Little Girl Who Knew Everything

Rain began to fall in sheets as I drove the black SUV toward the docks.

The city was asleep, completely unaware of the war about to erupt on the waterfront.

Rocco sat in the passenger seat, loading a magazine into his sidearm. The metallic clack was the only sound in the car.

I had told him to stay behind. I was supposed to go alone.

But Rocco had looked me in the eye and said, “I don’t take orders from dead men.”

He was coming.

“We have three teams moving into position,” Rocco said quietly, breaking the silence. “Snipers on the cranes. Assault teams on the ground. But if Marco sees them before we have eyes on the kid…”

“No one fires until I have Mia and Elena,” I said. My voice was calm, but inside, a violent storm was raging.

I pulled up to the rusted gates of Shipyard 4. The area was abandoned, a graveyard of shipping containers and rusted cranes.

I parked the SUV.

“Stay out of sight,” I told Rocco. “Wait for my signal.”

I stepped out into the freezing rain, pulling my dark coat tight. I walked alone down the center aisle between two towering rows of shipping containers.

At the end of the aisle, illuminated by the harsh glare of a single floodlight, stood Vivien.

She was wearing a long black trench coat, holding an umbrella. She looked perfectly composed, like she was waiting for a valet, not a cartel execution.

Standing ten feet behind her was Marco.

He looked older, rougher. The jagged scar down his jaw was raw and angry in the harsh light. He was holding a gun, the barrel resting lazily against his leg.

Kneeling in the mud between them was Elena.

Her hands were bound behind her back with zip ties. She was drenched, shivering violently.

But Mia wasn’t with her.

I stopped twenty feet away.

“Where is the child, Vivien?” I asked.

Vivien smiled sadly, as if I had just disappointed her.

“Hello, Lorenzo. Always straight to business.”

“Where is Mia?” I roared, the composure finally snapping.

Marco chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “She’s safe. In one of these containers. Only Vivien knows which one. If things go bad for us today, little Mia spends the rest of her short life in the dark.”

My blood ran cold. Hundreds of containers surrounded us. We could search for days and never find her.

“What do you want?” I asked, keeping my hands visible.

“I want what was promised to me,” Marco spat, his lazy demeanor vanishing. He pointed the gun at my chest. “The old man stole my life. He made me a ghost to cover his own sins. I want the Duca family, Lorenzo. I want you to sign over the waterfront, the unions, everything.”

“And you, Vivien?” I looked at the woman I had almost married. “You’d trade a child’s life for power?”

Vivien’s smile faded. Her eyes turned hard, entirely empty.

“My brother died like a dog in an alley because of your family, Lorenzo. I want half the syndicate. And I want the ledger from the safe.”

“I didn’t kill Julian,” I said.

“No,” Vivien agreed softly. “But your money bought the bullet.”

She looked down at Elena. “Kill the maid, Marco. We don’t need the leverage anymore. Lorenzo is going to give us exactly what we want to save the little girl.”

Elena closed her eyes, tears mixing with the rain on her face. She didn’t beg. She just bowed her head.

Marco raised his gun, aiming it at the back of Elena’s head.

“Wait,” I commanded.

I reached into my coat pocket.

Marco’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Hands where I can see them, little brother!”

Slowly, I pulled out the tarnished gold pocket watch. My father’s watch.

Marco froze.

“Vivien left this on Elena’s bed,” I said, holding it up by the chain. It caught the harsh glare of the floodlight.

“So?” Vivien frowned.

I looked at Marco. “Tell her, Marco. Tell her what this watch means.”

Marco’s face had drained of color. He lowered his gun slightly, staring at the gold timepiece.

“My father gave Marco this watch the day he banished him,” I said loudly, my voice carrying over the rain. “A parting gift. But there’s a trick to it, isn’t there, Marco?”

I pressed the small button on the side of the watch.

The front popped open.

“The watch contains a tracker,” I said. “My father never trusted you. He wanted to know where you were at all times. He paid you, but he owned you.”

Vivien looked at Marco, confusion crossing her face. “What is he talking about?”

I kept my eyes locked on my brother. “Marco knows that I disabled this tracker three years ago when our father died. So why would he give it to you to leave on the bed, Vivien?”

Vivien turned to Marco. “Marco?”

Marco didn’t answer. He was sweating despite the cold rain.

“I didn’t give it to her,” Marco said, his voice tight.

I smiled. A cold, merciless smile.

“I know you didn’t, Marco. Because Vivien didn’t get this watch from you.”

I pulled a small, folded piece of paper from my other pocket.

“She got it from a pawn shop downtown. Three days ago. I found the receipt in her vanity.”

Vivien stepped back, her composure finally cracking. “Lorenzo, what are you doing?”

“I’m doing what my father taught me,” I said. “I’m finding the lie.”

I pointed at Vivien.

“She’s playing you, Marco. She’s not splitting the syndicate with you. She bought that watch to frame you. She was going to kill me tonight, kill Elena, and leave the watch to make the police think you orchestrated the whole thing to take revenge on the family.”

Marco’s eyes darted between me and Vivien. The paranoia of a man who had lived in the shadows for a decade was bubbling to the surface.

“He’s lying, Marco!” Vivien shouted, her voice shrill. “Shoot him!”

“Am I?” I asked. “If she’s your partner, Marco, ask her which container the little girl is in. Ask her for the code.”

Marco slowly turned his gun toward Vivien.

“Where is the kid, Vivien?” Marco demanded.

Vivien’s eyes widened. She took a step back. “Marco, put the gun down. He’s trying to divide us.”

“Where is the kid?” Marco screamed.

Vivien hesitated. Her eyes darted toward the darkness. She didn’t know.

Because in that split second of hesitation, I saw the truth.

Vivien didn’t have Mia.

She had used the threat of the child to lure me out, but she would never risk getting her own hands dirty kidnapping a toddler.

She had hired someone else to do it.