Chapter 5 - THE SILVER ROSARY
Marco smiled. It was a cold, empty smile that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “Put the gun on the table, Marco,” Luca said. He hadn’t even turned around. Luca had seen the drawing too. Marco didn’t move. “Twenty years, Luca,” Marco said, pulling the weapon and pointing it at Luca’s chest. “Twenty years I protected this family. And your father left everything to Anthony. A weak boy who wanted to go legitimate.” Vanessa was sobbing on the stairs, clutching the banister. “You cut the brakes,” I whispered, realizing the truth. Marco glanced at me. “The maid speaks. Yes. But Anthony wasn’t driving. The old man took the car that night. Anthony found out what I did. So I gave him a choice. Disappear, let the world think he died in the crash, or I kill his little brother.” Marco pointed the gun directly at Luca. “He chose you.” Luca didn’t flinch. “Where is my brother, Marco?” “Dead,” Marco sneered. “For real this time. I found him in Montreal last week. That’s why Vanessa was running. She knew I was tying up loose ends.” Eleanor suddenly let out a sharp, guttural cry. She reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a small, heavy object. She threw it across the room. It clattered against the hardwood floor and slid to a stop at Marco’s feet. It was a heavy, tarnished silver ring. The Moretti family signet ring. Marco stared at it, his face paling. “He’s not dead,” a voice rang out from the shadows of the hallway. A man stepped into the light of the dining room chandelier. He looked older, weathered by twenty years of hiding, with a jagged scar across his cheek. But his eyes were exactly like Luca’s. Anthony Moretti had come home. And he was holding a shotgun. “Drop it, Marco,” Anthony said softly.
