Chapter 7 - THE LAVENDER ROSES
The words hit Luca like a physical blow.
Carlo is at the restaurant. He went for your mother.
Luca’s eyes widened in sheer panic.
“I sent them to the safe house,” Luca stammered, pulling out his phone. He dialed George’s number with bloodstained fingers.
It went straight to voicemail.
“They didn't go to the safe house,” my mother said, her voice grave. She looked down at Vanessa, whose eyes had finally gone blank and still.
“What do you mean?” Luca demanded, standing up.
“Frank’s pocket watch,” my mother explained quickly. “George knew what was inside it. But he also knew there was a second piece to the puzzle. The original deed to the restaurant. Frank hid it in the kitchen walls years ago to keep it out of Carlo’s hands.”
“My mother wouldn't go back there,” Luca argued. “She knows it’s not safe.”
“Your mother is a Moretti,” my mother said softly. “She went back to burn the deed so Carlo could never claim the property.”
Luca didn't waste another second.
He turned to me.
“Hannah, take Leo. Go with your mother to the police station. Ask for Detective Russo. Tell him exactly what happened here.”
“I’m not leaving you, Luca,” I protested, grabbing his arm.
“You have to,” Luca pleaded, looking at the little boy clinging to my leg. “Leo needs to be safe. And I can’t protect him if I’m walking into a warzone.”
I looked at Leo’s terrified face. Luca was right.
I nodded, tears stinging my eyes. “Bring Teresa back.”
Luca didn't answer. He just kissed Leo’s forehead, turned, and sprinted to his SUV. The tires squealed as he tore out of the warehouse, racing back to the city.
My mother put her arm around my shoulders.
“Come on, Hannah,” she said gently. “We have to go.”
I looked at the woman who had abandoned me for seven years. I had a million questions, a million screams trapped in my chest. But right now, we had to survive.
I picked up Leo, and we ran out into the rainy night.
Twenty minutes later. The Moretti Restaurant.
Luca kicked the back door of the kitchen open, his gun raised.
The restaurant was pitch black. The power had been cut.
The only light came from the lightning flashing through the dining room windows.
“Mom!” Luca yelled, his voice echoing off the stainless steel counters.
No answer.
He moved silently through the kitchen, stepping over broken glass. The place had been trashed. Pots and pans were scattered everywhere.
He pushed through the swinging doors into the main dining room.
Sitting at the head of the long, empty table in the dark was Carlo Bellini.
He was a thick, older man with a gray beard and eyes that looked like black ice. He was calmly smoking a cigar.
Standing behind him were four armed men.
And kneeling on the floor, surrounded by broken china, were Teresa and George.
George was bleeding from a nasty cut above his eye, his arms tied behind his back.
Teresa was clutching her cream-colored cardigan, trembling, but her chin was held high.
“Luca, my boy,” Carlo smiled, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “I was wondering when you’d show up. Did my niece send you?”
Luca aimed his gun directly at Carlo’s head.
“Vanessa is dead, Carlo. Marco is dead. It’s over.”
Carlo’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovered.
“A shame,” Carlo sighed. “Vanessa was useful. But she was always a bit too emotional.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“Where’s the deed, Luca?” Carlo demanded. “Your mother and her boyfriend already tore up the kitchen looking for it. Hand it over, and I’ll let the old folks walk out of here.”
“There is no deed,” Luca said coldly. “My father burned it years ago so scum like you couldn't take what he built.”
Carlo sighed, pulling a revolver from his coat.
“That’s disappointing.”
He aimed the gun at Teresa.
“Mom, close your eyes,” Luca shouted, stepping forward to draw their fire.
Before Carlo could pull the trigger, George did something completely unexpected.
Despite having his hands tied behind his back, George launched himself forward, slamming his shoulder directly into Carlo’s chest.
The chair tipped backward. Carlo fired wildly into the ceiling, the gunshot deafening in the enclosed space.
“Luca, now!” George yelled as he crashed to the floor with the mafia boss.
Luca didn't hesitate. He fired three times, taking down two of Carlo’s men before they could raise their weapons.
The remaining two guards panicked and scrambled toward the front doors, fleeing into the street.
Luca ran forward, kicking the revolver out of Carlo’s hand as the older man struggled to get up.
Luca grabbed Carlo by the collar and slammed him against the heavy oak table. He pressed the barrel of his pistol hard against Carlo’s temple.
“You touch my family again,” Luca roared, “and I’ll bury you next to the brother you murdered!”
Sirens wailed in the distance. The police were finally arriving.
Luca didn't pull the trigger.
He threw Carlo to the floor in disgust.
“Let them lock you in a cage,” Luca spat.
Luca turned quickly to his mother. He fell to his knees, pulling her into a desperate embrace.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” Teresa cried, holding him tightly. “I’m okay.”
Luca looked over at George, who was sitting up, groaning and rubbing his bruised shoulder.
“You saved her life, George,” Luca said, his voice thick with emotion.
George smiled a tired, crooked smile.
“Frank told me to watch out for her,” George said. “I wasn't about to let him down.”
As the red and blue police lights flooded through the restaurant windows, Luca noticed something crushed on the floor near his mother’s knees.
It was the small bouquet of lavender roses George had brought her earlier that evening.
Luca picked them up. They were battered and bruised, but they were still intact.
May you like
He gently pinned them back onto his mother’s cardigan.
“You look beautiful, Mom,” Luca whispered.
