Chapter 4 - THE SHATTERED GLASS ON THE CARPET
“It’s Matteo. His bedroom window is smashed. He’s gone.”
Marco’s words hit like a physical blow.
Luca didn’t ask questions. He sprinted toward the main house.
I ran right behind him, my burned hand throbbing with every step, the silver locket bouncing against my chest.
We tore up the main staircase, pushing past the confused engagement guests who were still lingering in the foyer.
Matteo’s bedroom door was wide open.
The cold night wind whipped through the shattered glass of his large bay window.
Glass glittered across the navy blue carpet.
The bed was empty.
Luca stood frozen in the center of the room. The most powerful man in Chicago looked like he couldn’t breathe.
“Matteo!” he roared.
No answer.
I fell to my knees by the window, inspecting the glass.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, my voice trembling. “Look.”
The glass hadn’t been broken from the outside.
The shards were scattered outside on the balcony roof.
The window was broken from the inside.
Luca rushed over.
He looked at the glass, then down at the floor.
Lying near the radiator was the heavy bronze lamp from Matteo’s nightstand.
“He wasn’t taken,” Luca realized, his voice tight. “He ran.”
“But why?” I asked. “You told him to lock the door and stay safe.”
Luca’s eyes darted around the room.
He walked to Matteo’s desk.
The scorched wooden box—the one Matteo had made for him, the one I had pulled from the fire—was gone.
But something else was sitting in its place.
A piece of heavy, monogrammed stationary.
Vanessa’s stationary.
Luca picked it up. His knuckles turned white.
He handed it to me.
I read the looping handwriting.
“Your father doesn’t want you, Matteo. He’s marrying me tonight, and tomorrow, you’re being sent to boarding school in Switzerland. If you love him, you’ll leave now before you ruin his life completely.”
Rage flared in my chest.
That venomous woman had slipped this note under his door while Luca and I were in the garage.
“She wants him out of the picture,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “My father’s journal warned me. She’s trying to clear the board.”
Marco stepped into the room.
“Boss, the perimeter guards didn’t see him leave. But the side gate by the old street is unlocked.”
“Call everyone,” Luca ordered. “Every man on my payroll. Tear this city apart. Nobody sleeps until my son is found.”
“Yes, Boss.” Marco hesitated. “What about Vanessa?”
Luca’s eyes darkened.
“Leave Vanessa to me.”
Marco ran out.
Luca turned to the window, staring out into the dark city.
“He’s twelve years old, Claire. He has no money, no coat, and he’s carrying a piece of scrap wood he thinks is the only thing keeping his family together.”
I looked down at the floor.
Something caught my eye under the edge of the bed.
I reached down and pulled it out.
It was a small, hand-drawn map on notebook paper.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He turned.
I showed him the paper.
It was a map of the city transit lines. And circled in heavy red marker was an address in the West Loop.
1424 Halsted Street.
Luca stared at the address. The color drained from his face.
“Do you know this place?” I asked.
“Yes,” Luca said quietly.
May you like
“Is it a safe house?”
“No.” Luca looked at me, a deep fear in his eyes. “It’s the pawn shop where Vanessa sold my father’s tools.”
