Chapter 7 - THE REVOLVER IN THE GLOVEBOX
The SUV swerved slightly as Luca’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.
“Track her phone,” Luca ordered the guard over the Bluetooth.
“We tried, sir. She left it on the kitchen counter. She’s completely off the grid.”
Luca cursed violently, slamming his hand against the steering wheel.
“Daniel,” Luca said, his voice tight with panic. “Call every man we have in the South Side. If they see my mother’s car, they stop her. Even if they have to shoot the tires out.”
“Yes, boss.” Daniel was already dialing his radio.
I sat in the back seat, my mind racing.
Rosa Moretti was a seventy-four-year-old woman. She had never fired a gun in her life. She was driving into a warehouse full of heavily armed mercenaries to confront a monster.
“Why would she go alone?” I whispered.
Luca glanced at me in the rearview mirror. His eyes were dark, filled with a sorrow I couldn't fully understand yet.
“Because she blames herself,” Luca said quietly.
“For what?”
Luca didn't answer immediately. He kept his eyes on the dark, empty highway.
“Victor is her son,” Luca finally said. The words tasted like ash. “She believes this is her mess to clean up. She thinks if she kills him, she saves Sophie and protects my secret.”
I stared at the back of his head.
He knew.
He knew Rosa wasn't his biological mother. He knew he was the illegitimate son.
“You knew,” I breathed.
Luca nodded slowly.
“My father told me on his deathbed,” Luca said, his voice devoid of emotion. “He told me the truth about my birth. He said he chose me because Victor was a psychopath who would burn the family to the ground.”
He looked at me in the mirror again.
“Rosa raised me. She loved me like her own. But Victor always knew there was something different about me. He always suspected.”
“And now he has proof,” Daniel added grimly from the passenger seat.
“It doesn't matter,” Luca said, his voice hardening into absolute resolve. “He can have the empire. He can tell the syndicate whatever he wants. I just want my daughter.”
We tore into the South Side industrial district twenty minutes later.
The streets were desolate, lined with abandoned factories and broken streetlights.
Luca killed the headlights as we turned onto the street Vanessa had given us.
Halfway down the block, parked outside a massive, windowless brick warehouse, were two black SUVs. Victor’s men.
And parked haphazardly across the street, the driver’s side door left wide open, was Rosa’s sedan.
“She’s already inside,” Luca breathed, throwing the SUV into park.
He drew his weapon and turned to me.
“Emma. Stay in the car. Keep the doors locked. If we aren't back in twenty minutes, you drive to the nearest police station.”
I didn't argue. I nodded, my hands shaking.
Luca and Daniel slipped out of the vehicle, disappearing into the shadows of the warehouse.
I sat alone in the dark, the silence pressing against my ears.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
My imagination ran wild, picturing Rosa facing down heavily armed men with a rusted revolver.
Suddenly, a sharp tap tap tap echoed through the quiet street.
I jumped, looking around frantically.
It came from the trunk of Victor’s parked SUV across the street.
I froze.
The tapping happened again. Weak. Rhythmic.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It sounded like someone kicking from the inside.
I looked at the warehouse. No sign of Luca or Daniel. No gunfire.
I looked back at the SUV.
What if Sophie wasn't inside the warehouse? What if Victor had left her in the car while he dealt with the doctor?
I couldn't just sit there.
I unlocked my door, my heart hammering against my ribs, and slipped out into the cold night air.
I crept across the street, staying low, hiding behind a rusted dumpster until I reached the back of the SUV.
I pressed my ear against the cold metal of the trunk.
I heard a muffled whimper.
“Sophie?” I whispered urgently.
A sharp kick hit the metal right next to my face.
She was in there.
I tried the trunk handle. Locked.
I looked through the rear window. The back seats were folded up, blocking access from the cabin.
I needed the keys.
I crept to the driver’s side door and peered through the glass.
The keys were dangling from the ignition.
I checked the warehouse doors. Still closed.
I reached for the door handle, praying it was unlocked.
It clicked open.
I slid into the driver’s seat, grabbed the keys, and popped the trunk release button.
With a soft hiss, the trunk popped open.
I scrambled to the back of the SUV and threw the trunk wide open.
Lying inside, bound with zip-ties and a piece of duct tape over her mouth, was Sophie.
She was terrified, tears streaming down her face, but she was alive.
I reached in and ripped the tape off her mouth.
“Emma!” she sobbed quietly.
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” I whispered, pulling a pocket knife from my apron and cutting the zip-ties on her wrists.
I helped her climb out of the trunk.
“We have to go,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Your dad is inside looking for you.”
“He’s not in there,” Sophie cried, pointing at the warehouse.
I stopped. “What?”
“Uncle Victor left me in the car,” Sophie whimpered. “He said the doctor wasn't here yet. But then Grandma drove up.”
My blood turned to ice.
“What happened to Grandma?”
Sophie pointed a shaking finger toward a narrow, dark alley running alongside the warehouse.
“Uncle Victor took her down there.”
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Before I could process the words, a single, deafening gunshot echoed from the alleyway.
TITLE: THE COAT IN THE ALLEYWAY
