Chapter 8 - THE COAT IN THE ALLEYWAY
The gunshot ripped through the silent street, echoing off the brick walls.
Sophie screamed, burying her face against my stomach.
I dropped to my knees, pulling her tight against me, my heart pounding so hard it physically hurt.
“Stay here,” I whispered frantically. “Hide behind the tire. Do not move.”
Sophie nodded, her eyes wide with terror, crouching behind the massive wheel of the SUV.
I stood up, my legs shaking, and crept toward the dark alleyway.
The shadows were deep, the only light coming from a flickering streetlamp at the far end.
“Mrs. Moretti?” I whispered into the darkness.
No answer.
I took a few steps into the alley, my eyes adjusting to the gloom.
Lying on the wet pavement, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, was a heavy wool coat.
I recognized it instantly. It was Rosa’s.
I ran toward it, dropping to my knees.
Rosa was lying beneath the coat, clutching her side. Dark blood seeped through her fingers, pooling on the asphalt.
“Mrs. Moretti!” I gasped, pressing my hands over hers to stem the bleeding.
Rosa opened her eyes. She looked weak, her skin pale and clammy, but she was alive.
“Emma,” she coughed, her breath rattling.
“I’m here. I’m here. We’re going to get you help.”
I looked around frantically for the shooter, but the alley was empty.
A few feet away lay the antique revolver she had taken from the study. Unfired.
“Where is Victor?” I asked, panicking.
Rosa grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong.
“He took it,” she wheezed.
“Took what?”
“The proof.” Rosa coughed violently, blood spattering her lips. “I brought the original birth certificates. I told him... I told him I would burn them if he didn't let Sophie go.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“He didn't care. He shot me. He took the papers.”
Answer one: Victor hadn't lured them here for a DNA test. He hadn't needed Sophie’s blood at all.
Open two: If Victor already had the original documents, why did he kidnap Sophie in the first place?
“He tricked us,” Rosa whispered, her eyes drifting shut. “He knew... he knew I would bring the papers to save her.”
I stared at her in horror.
Victor had orchestrated the entire kidnapping, not to test Sophie, but to force Rosa into bringing him the very documents he couldn't find in the grave.
He used a thirteen-year-old girl as bait to trap his own mother.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed from the street.
“Emma!” Luca’s voice roared.
Luca and Daniel sprinted into the alley, their guns raised, having heard the gunshot from inside the empty warehouse.
Luca dropped to his knees in the blood, his face contorted in absolute agony.
“Ma!” Luca cried, pulling Rosa into his arms. “Ma, stay with me!”
Rosa opened her eyes, looking up at the son she had raised.
“Luca,” she smiled weakly, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry. I failed.”
“You didn't fail anything,” Luca wept, pressing his forehead against hers. “Daniel, call an ambulance! Now!”
Daniel was already on the phone, yelling coordinates.
“Sophie,” Rosa whispered. “Is she safe?”
“She’s safe,” I said quickly. “She’s hiding behind the car. I got her out.”
Rosa closed her eyes, a profound sense of peace washing over her face.
“Thank God.”
Her hand fell limply from Luca’s face.
“Ma? Ma!” Luca shook her gently, tears streaming down his face.
She didn't respond. She was unconscious, her pulse weak and thready.
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second.
Luca carefully lowered his mother to the pavement, taking off his jacket to press against her wound.
He looked up at me. His eyes were entirely black. The grief was gone, replaced by a terrifying, absolute promise of violence.
“Where is he, Emma?”
“He took the papers,” I said, my voice trembling. “She said he took the birth certificates and left.”
Luca stood up, his white shirt stained with his mother’s blood.
He didn't yell. He didn't curse.
He looked at Daniel.
“Stay with my mother and my daughter. When the ambulance arrives, get them to the private hospital. Triple the guard.”
“Boss, you can't go after him alone,” Daniel protested. “He’s heading to the syndicate council. With those papers, they’ll back him.”
“I’m not going to the council,” Luca said coldly.
He picked up his mother’s unfired revolver from the ground.
“I’m going to end this.”
He turned and walked toward the street.
“Wait!” I shouted, running after him.
Luca stopped, turning back to me.
“Take my car,” I said, pulling the keys to the SUV I had driven from my pocket. “His men took yours.”
Luca took the keys. He looked at me for a long moment, a silent, profound gratitude in his eyes.
“Thank you, Emma,” he said softly.
He turned and disappeared into the night.
Ten minutes later, the ambulance arrived. Paramedics loaded Rosa onto a stretcher, rushing her toward the hospital.
I sat in the back of a police cruiser with Sophie, holding her tightly as she cried into my shoulder.
The nightmare was supposed to be over.
But as I sat there, I remembered something I had seen in the trunk of Victor’s SUV when I freed Sophie.
I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now it burned in my mind.
Lying next to the zip-ties was a small, velvet jewelry box.
And sticking out from beneath it was a corner of a very familiar, colorful paper.
A child’s drawing.
The same drawing Sophie had made for her father years ago, the one that had been hanging in Luca’s private study.
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