Chapter 4 - THE SHOT THAT SHATTERED THE MUSIC ROOM
“Get down!” Dominic roared.
He tackled me and Sophie to the Persian rug just as the glass doors exploded inward. The suppressed bullet hissed through the air, burying itself into the mahogany piano leg inches from my head.
Sophie screamed, burying her face against my chest. I wrapped my body completely around hers, pulling her behind the heavy bulk of the piano.
“Marco, stop!” Dominic shouted, drawing a small silver revolver from his ankle holster. I hadn't even known he was armed.
Marco stepped through the shattered glass, his boots crunching loudly. “Victoria promised me a million dollars and control of the docks when she married you, Dom. Isabella figured it out. She found the ledger showing I was skimming from your accounts to pay Victoria’s debts.”
“Where is my wife?” Dominic demanded, his voice shaking with a rage that terrified me.
“Probably at the bottom of the Hudson by now,” Marco sneered. “Victoria kept her locked up in upstate New York to force her to sign over her family’s estate. I told Victoria it was a loose end. Looks like I was right.”
Marco raised his gun again, aiming toward the piano where Sophie and I were hiding. “Send the kid out, Dom. Make it easy.”
I looked at the heavy gold rosary still sitting on the floor near the silver box. My heart pounded against my ribs. I was a housekeeper. I didn't know how to fight mafia hitmen. But I knew how to protect a child.
I grabbed the heavy metal leg of the piano stool next to me.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered urgently. “When I throw this, shoot.”
Dominic met my eyes and gave a single, sharp nod.
I took a deep breath, silently kissed the top of Sophie’s head, and hurled the heavy piano stool directly at the large crystal chandelier above Marco.
The stool smashed into the crystal. Marco flinched, looking up for a split second as shards of glass rained down.
Dominic didn't hesitate. He fired twice.
Marco dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder, and fell to his knees.
Dominic stepped out from behind the piano, kicking Marco’s gun across the floor. He grabbed the bleeding man by the collar. “Where is the house upstate? Where is she?”
Marco coughed, a bitter smile on his face. “You... you think Isabella was an angel, Dom? Why do you think Victoria targeted her? Isabella sought Victoria out first.”
Dominic froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Your wife,” Marco gasped. “She wasn't trying to expose Victoria. She was trying to buy fake passports. From Victoria’s contacts. Isabella was trying to take Sophie and run away from you.”
Dominic stumbled backward as if he’d been shot himself.
He looked at me, then down at his trembling hands. The foundation of his entire life—the perfect, tragic memory of his wife—was crumbling.
I stood up slowly, keeping Sophie behind me. “He’s lying to hurt you, sir.”
But then Sophie pulled gently on my apron. She reached into the pocket of her navy-blue coat and pulled out a small, folded airplane ticket.
“Mommy gave me this before she left,” Sophie whispered softly. “She said we were going to go live near the ocean. Just us.”
Dominic stared at the ticket in his daughter's hand. It was a one-way flight to Italy, dated three years ago. For two passengers.
Then, Marco’s radio on his belt buzzed. A distorted voice crackled through the speaker.
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“Marco. This is Victoria. I’m at the upstate house. The woman is gone. She escaped.”
TITLE: "THE FOOTPRINTS IN THE UPSTATE SNOW"
