Chapter 5 - THE SILVER KEY
I stared at the charred wooden rosary resting in Leo’s small, trembling palm.
I recognized it instantly. It was the rosary my mother had given my father on their wedding day. He had carried it in his breast pocket every single day of his life.
My hands shook as I reached out and gently took it from the little boy. The wood smelled faintly of smoke, even after fifteen years. Etched into the small silver cross at the bottom were the initials T.C.
“Why did you have this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I looked up at Victoria.
Victoria’s face had drained of all color. The arrogant, untouchable mafia matriarch was suddenly terrified.
“Where did you get that, Leo?” Victoria hissed, taking a step toward her grandson.
Adrian instantly moved between them, shielding the boy. “Don't you dare raise your voice to him.”
Leo clutched my apron, hiding behind my legs. “I saw Grandma put a silver key in the flower pot by the stairs. I took it when she wasn't looking. It opens a big metal box in the wine cellar.”
“You little rat,” Victoria spat, losing her composure entirely.
“What else is in the box, Leo?” Vanessa asked gently, kneeling down to his eye level.
Leo sniffled, looking up at his uncle Adrian.
“There’s a train ticket,” Leo whispered. “For tonight. With Grandma’s name on it. And a passport.”
The room went dead silent.
Adrian turned slowly to look at his mother.
“You were leaving,” Adrian stated, the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
Victoria didn't answer. She backed away toward the fireplace, her eyes darting nervously between Adrian and Richard Bellamy.
“She wasn't just leaving,” Richard chuckled, taking another sip of his bourbon. “She was running. Victoria knew Vanessa was digging into the old warehouse files. She knew the FBI was getting close. So, she authorized the four million dollar payout to my firm tonight as a final payoff to buy my silence, and she booked a midnight train to Canada.”
“You sold out your own family to save yourself,” Adrian said, disgust dripping from every word.
“I did what I had to do!” Victoria screamed, cornered and desperate. “I built this family! You would be nothing without the money I made!”
“I would rather have nothing,” Adrian said coldly.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the police. It’s over, Mother.”
“No!”
The shout didn't come from Victoria. It came from Richard.
The attorney dropped his crystal glass. It shattered on the stone hearth. With lightning speed, Richard reached inside his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a sleek, black handgun.
He aimed it directly at Adrian’s chest.
“Put the phone down, Adrian,” Richard commanded, all trace of his smug humor gone. His eyes were cold and lethal.
Adrian froze, his thumb hovering over the keypad. He slowly lowered the phone.
“Richard, what are you doing?” Victoria panicked, holding her hands up. “We had a deal. You got your money.”
“I got a wire transfer that is going to be frozen the second the FBI reads Vanessa’s files,” Richard sneered. “You think I’m going to let this boy call the cops while I’m standing in the room? I’m an accessory to a dozen murders.”
Richard motioned with the gun toward the hallway.
“Victoria and I are leaving,” Richard announced. “We’re taking the boy’s car. If anyone follows us, I’ll start shooting.”
“Leave Leo out of this,” I pleaded, pulling the little boy tighter against my legs. Leo was silently crying into my apron.
“Nobody is touching the kid,” Richard said, his eyes locked on Adrian. “Just give me your car keys.”
Adrian didn't move. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked on the gun.
“I said give me the keys!” Richard yelled, stepping closer.
Suddenly, a loud, heavy THUD echoed from the front hallway.
It sounded like the massive oak front doors had just been kicked open.
Richard whipped his head toward the sound, the gun wavering for a fraction of a second.
That was all Adrian needed.
With terrifying speed, Adrian lunged forward. He didn't go for the gun. He grabbed a heavy silver candelabra from the dining table and swung it like a baseball bat.
It connected solidly with Richard’s wrist.
A sickening crack echoed in the room. Richard screamed in agony, dropping the gun.
Before the weapon could hit the floor, Vanessa dove across the rug. She scrambled, her silk dress tearing, and grabbed the gun with both hands.
She rolled onto her knees and aimed it squarely at Richard’s head.
“Don't move,” Vanessa breathed, her hands shaking but her eyes burning with a fierce, relentless fire.
Heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway.
A dozen tactical FBI agents flooded into the dining room, their laser sights sweeping across the opulent space.
“FEDERAL AGENTS! DROP THE WEAPON!” a voice roared.
Vanessa slowly placed the gun on the floor and raised her hands.
A tall man in a trench coat walked through the sea of armed agents. He flashed a gold badge at Adrian.
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“Agent Miller,” the man said. He looked down at Richard, who was writhing on the floor, clutching his broken wrist. Then he looked at Victoria.
“Victoria Moretti and Richard Bellamy,” Agent Miller announced, his voice echoing off the crystal chandeliers. “You are under arrest for conspiracy, embezzlement, and the murders of twelve men.”
