Chapter 3 - THE GREEN-EYED BOY
The dining room descended into absolute chaos. Guests were whispering frantically, some standing up, sensing that the engagement dinner had just turned into an interrogation. “Everyone, please leave,” Luca said. He didn’t yell. But the command in his voice cleared the room in less than three minutes. Soon, it was only Luca, Vanessa, Marco, and me. I moved toward the door, wanting to disappear into the kitchen, but Luca raised a hand. “Stay, Emma.” I froze near the mahogany sideboard. Vanessa was pacing, clutching the silver locket to her chest. “You are humiliating me,” she wept. “Over a stupid misunderstanding!” “Nine thousand six hundred dollars is not a misunderstanding,” Luca said coldly. “A forged signature is a crime. And a threat note hidden in a locket is a liability.” He pointed at the locket. “Open it.” Vanessa shook her head, real tears finally spilling over her mascara. “Luca, please. It’s personal.” “You are marrying me in three weeks. We have no personal secrets.” He held out his hand. Vanessa hesitated, then slowly handed it over. Luca opened it. He stared at the picture of the green-eyed boy. Then he read the note. Pay him by Friday, or I take Leo. “Who is the man you are paying?” Luca asked. Vanessa sobbed. “Dominic.” Marco’s head snapped up. “Dominic Vane?” Marco asked, his voice thick with sudden dread. “The owner of the catering company you tried to force on me tonight?” Vanessa nodded weakly. Luca looked at Marco. “You know him?” “He’s not a caterer, Luca,” Marco said. “He uses the catering trucks to move stolen goods across state lines. The FBI raided his warehouse two years ago, but nothing stuck.” I felt the blood drain from my face. Dominic Vane. My mother owed his loan sharks ten thousand dollars. She had taken the loan to pay for my father’s physical therapy after the insurance ran out. Ten thousand dollars. Almost the exact amount of the “overage” Vanessa had orchestrated tonight. Luca looked at Vanessa. “Why is a smuggler blackmailing my fiancée?” Vanessa fell into one of the dining chairs, covering her face. “Leo is my son,” she whispered. The words hit the room like a physical blow. “I had him when I was nineteen,” she cried. “Dominic is his father. He was abusive. I ran away and left Leo with my sister in Ohio. I send them money every month.” Luca’s jaw clenched. “You told me you had no children.” “You wouldn’t have wanted a woman with baggage!” she screamed. “Dominic found out I was marrying you. He said if I didn’t funnel your business contracts to his front companies, he would take Leo away from my sister and disappear.” She pointed a shaking finger at Marco. “I tried to give Dominic the catering contract to keep him quiet! But Marco refused! So I had to find a way to get Dominic ten thousand dollars in cash tonight, or he’ll take my baby!” Luca stared at her. The anger in his eyes shifted into something much more dangerous. He was a man who demanded loyalty, but he protected children. Always. “Where is the boy now?” Luca demanded. Before Vanessa could answer, my cell phone vibrated in my apron pocket. I ignored it. It vibrated again. Then a text message tone echoed in the silent room. “Answer it,” Luca commanded. I pulled out my phone. It was a picture from an unknown number. My breath caught in my throat. It was a picture of my mother’s restaurant. Standing in front of the glass door was a tall man with a scar over his left eyebrow. He was holding the hand of a little boy with green eyes. The text beneath the picture was in Italian. Dì al tuo capo di pagare, o brucio questo posto con tua madre dentro. Tell your boss to pay, or I burn this place with your mother inside.
