Chapter 6 - THE PASSPORT AT THE PRIVATE AIRSTRIP
The drive to Rockford took forty-five minutes. It felt like ten years.
Luca drove the armored SUV himself, tearing down the empty interstate at a hundred miles an hour. Daniel rode shotgun, coordinating with the strike teams trailing behind us.
I sat in the back seat, my hands clenched together in my lap, praying silently for Sophie.
The private airstrip was hidden behind a dense line of pine trees, far from the commercial airports. It was a desolate strip of asphalt used exclusively by people who didn't want their names on a manifest.
Luca cut the headlights as we approached the heavy chain-link gate.
Through the trees, I could see a sleek, twin-engine private jet idling on the tarmac.
And parked next to the plane was a black sedan.
“That’s her,” Daniel whispered, peering through binoculars. “She’s getting out of the car.”
Luca killed the engine.
He didn't wait for his men. He opened the door and slipped out into the darkness, his weapon drawn.
“Stay in the car, Olivia,” Daniel ordered, following his boss.
I didn't argue this time. I locked the doors and watched through the tinted windows, my heart hammering.
Vanessa was walking briskly toward the plane, clutching the leather ledger to her chest. She handed a small blue booklet—the fake passport—to the pilot standing at the base of the stairs.
Before the pilot could open it, a shadow moved from the darkness under the wing.
Luca stepped into the dim light of the runway lamps.
He raised his gun, aiming it directly at the pilot.
“Walk away,” Luca said softly.
The pilot dropped the passport, raised his hands, and sprinted away into the dark without a word.
Vanessa froze.
She turned slowly, clutching the ledger like a shield.
“Luca,” she breathed, her voice trembling.
“Where is my daughter, Vanessa?”
Vanessa took a step back toward the plane. “I don't know! He didn't tell me where he was taking her!”
“Lie to me again, and I’ll put a bullet in your knee,” Luca said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.
He took a step forward.
“Victor hired you. He orchestrated this entire night with you. You know where his safehouse is.”
“I swear to God, I don't!” Vanessa cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. “He’s a psychopath, Luca! He didn't trust me with his locations! He just told me to distract you while he took the girl!”
Luca raised the gun, aiming it at her leg.
“Please!” Vanessa shrieked, dropping to her knees on the cold tarmac. “I can give you the ledger! I can give you the money! Just let me go!”
“I don't care about the money.”
Luca stepped closer, looming over her.
“I want my daughter.”
Vanessa sobbed, shaking her head violently.
“He’s going to kill her, Luca!” Vanessa wept. “He doesn't need her alive! He just needed her blood!”
The words hit Luca like a physical blow.
He stopped.
“What did you just say?”
Vanessa looked up at him, her mascara running down her face.
“Victor told me,” she whispered. “He told me he found the original birth certificates in your father’s grave. But the syndicate bosses won't accept old papers. They think they’re forged.”
She swallowed hard.
“Victor needs a DNA test to prove he’s the true bloodline. And since your father is dead, and you would never agree to it...”
Vanessa looked away.
“He’s using Sophie. He took her to get a DNA sample. Once he proves she doesn't share his bloodline, he exposes you as the bastard. The syndicate turns on you. And Victor takes the throne.”
Luca stared at her, the horrific truth settling in his eyes.
Answer one: Victor didn't want Sophie for leverage. He wanted her for genetic proof to destroy Luca’s claim to the empire.
Open two: Once Victor had the DNA sample... Sophie was a loose end.
“Where is he testing her?” Luca demanded, grabbing Vanessa by the collar of her ruined dress and hauling her to her feet.
“A private lab,” Vanessa choked out. “On the South Side. Owned by a doctor on Victor’s payroll.”
“Give me the address.”
Vanessa sobbed, giving him a street name in an abandoned industrial district.
Luca dropped her back onto the tarmac.
He turned to Daniel.
“Call the police,” Luca said coldly. “Tell them we found the woman who planted the bomb in the garage. Let her rot.”
“No!” Vanessa screamed as Daniel moved forward to zip-tie her wrists.
Luca didn't look back. He grabbed the ledger from the ground and sprinted back toward the SUV.
He threw the door open and climbed into the driver's seat.
“We have an address,” Luca said to me, his hands shaking slightly as he gripped the steering wheel.
He threw the SUV into reverse, tearing out of the airstrip, leaving Vanessa screaming on the tarmac.
We sped back toward Chicago, the silence in the car heavy with dread.
If Victor only needed a DNA sample, it would only take a few minutes to extract.
We were running out of time.
Suddenly, Luca’s phone rang.
It was connected to the car's Bluetooth.
Luca hit the answer button on the steering wheel.
“Boss,” a frantic voice crackled through the speakers. It was one of the guards left at the mansion.
“Report,” Luca barked.
“Sir, it’s your mother.”
Luca’s jaw clenched. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s gone, boss. We went to check on her in the safe room, but she wasn't there. She slipped out the back.”
“Where did she go?!”
The guard hesitated.
“She took one of the sedans. But she didn't leave empty-handed, sir.”
“What did she take?”
“She went into your father’s old study,” the guard said, his voice trembling. “She broke open his display case.”
I stared at the dashboard, a cold dread pooling in my stomach.
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“She took his old service revolver, boss. Mrs. Moretti is armed.”
TITLE: THE REVOLVER IN THE GLOVEBOX
