Chapter 6 - The Vials In The Guest Room
The name hit the room like a physical blow.
Dr. Elias Bellini.
Vanessa’s father. A respected surgeon who had died of a sudden heart attack two years ago.
Luca stood frozen, staring at the toxicology report in my trembling hands. The pieces of the conspiracy were violently slamming together, forming a picture so grotesque it defied belief.
“Vanessa’s father poisoned Catherine,” Teresa breathed, sinking onto the edge of the sofa. “He murdered her so his daughter could take her place.”
“And Dominic found out,” Luca concluded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
He paced the length of the panic room, the terrifying brilliance of the mafia boss finally awakening.
“Dominic found out what Elias Bellini did,” Luca said, putting the timeline together. “He confronted Catherine the night of the crash. Maybe she realized she was poisoned. Maybe she was trying to drive to the hospital, and Dominic was in the car with her.”
“He let her die,” Marco added grimly. “He took the bracelet as proof, and then he used the poisoning to blackmail Vanessa.”
“That’s why Vanessa was so terrified of him,” I realized, speaking aloud. “She wasn't his partner. She was his hostage. Dominic forced Vanessa to marry you, Luca. He was going to use her to control the entire Moretti fortune, and he was going to sell Sophie to get the true heir out of the way.”
Luca stopped pacing. He looked at the little girl sleeping peacefully on the sofa.
His daughter. The child who had spent nine days hiding in a guest room, terrified of the man she called Uncle.
“Where did Vanessa stay when she moved into the house?” Luca asked suddenly.
“The master suite with you, sir,” I answered.
“No. Before the engagement. When she first started visiting.”
“The upstairs guest room,” Teresa answered. “The one at the end of the hall. The same room she forced Sophie to hide in.”
Luca’s eyes darkened. “Marco. Come with me. Hannah, stay with my mother.”
“No,” I said firmly, stepping forward. “My mother is out there, Luca. She’s being held by a man who murders women in cold blood. If there’s something in that room that can help us find her, I am helping you look.”
Luca looked at me. He saw the fire in my eyes, the desperation of a daughter fighting for her mother. He nodded once.
We left the panic room and hurried up the grand staircase.
The upstairs hallway was dark, the storm raging against the massive windows. We reached the guest room at the end of the hall.
Luca kicked the door open.
The room was immaculate, completely sterile. The bed was made. Sophie’s small pink suitcase was shoved into the corner, half-unpacked.
“Tear it apart,” Luca ordered.
Marco and I immediately began searching. I pulled the drawers out of the dresser, dumping the contents onto the floor. Marco ripped the mattress off the bed.
Luca went straight for the walk-in closet. He began tearing through the empty garment bags Vanessa had left behind.
For ten minutes, we found nothing. The room was clean.
“Boss, there’s nothing here,” Marco said, panting heavily.
I refused to give up. I dropped to my hands and knees, crawling across the thick Persian rug, feeling along the baseboards.
Vanessa was arrogant, but she wasn't stupid. If Dominic was blackmailing her with her father’s crime, she would need her own leverage. She would need proof to protect herself.
My fingers brushed against the heavy oak floor vent in the corner of the room.
It was slightly loose.
“Mr. Moretti,” I called out.
Luca rushed over. He wedged his strong fingers under the iron grate and pulled. It popped off with a screech of metal.
I reached my hand into the dark, dusty ductwork.
My fingers touched cold, smooth velvet.
I pulled it out.
It was a small, black jewelry box.
Luca took it from my hands. He popped the lid open.
Inside the box wasn't a necklace or a ring.
It was a small, glass vial. Empty. The label was peeled off, but the hospital barcode was still visible on the bottom.
And tucked beneath the vial was a micro-cassette tape.
“A recording,” Marco breathed.
Luca walked over to the vintage stereo system sitting on the bookshelf. He popped the cassette deck open, inserted the tiny tape, and pressed play.
For a moment, there was only the hiss of static.
Then, a voice spoke. A voice that made my blood run cold.
“You think you own me, Dominic?”
It was Vanessa. Her voice was shrill, desperate, echoing slightly as if recorded in a large, empty room.
“I own you,” Dominic’s deep, menacing voice replied on the tape. “Your father injected Catherine Moretti with a paralytic. I have the medical logs, Vanessa. I have the toxicology report. You will marry Luca, you will convince him to sign the waterfront properties over to the Bellini trust, and you will give me the keys to the empire.”
“And what about the kid?” Vanessa asked on the tape.
“The girl is a liability,” Dominic said coldly. “Once you have the ring, I’ll handle the brat. I have a buyer in Bogotá. She’ll disappear, and Luca will be so broken by grief he won't even care about the properties.”
“You’re a monster,” Vanessa whispered.
“I’m a businessman,” Dominic corrected. “And you’re an accessory to murder. Do exactly what I say, or Luca finds out you watched his wife die.”
The tape clicked, and the static returned.
Luca stared at the stereo. His chest heaved with a rage so profound it seemed to pull the oxygen out of the room.
He reached out and smashed the stereo with his bare fist, shattering the plastic casing into a hundred pieces.
“He planned to sell my daughter,” Luca roared, a sound of absolute, feral heartbreak. “He planned to sell my daughter to break me!”
Suddenly, the phone on the bedside table began to ring.
The shrill sound cut through the tension like a knife.
Marco drew his weapon, staring at the phone. “Nobody uses the landlines, Boss.”
Luca walked over. He picked up the receiver.
He didn't say a word. He just listened.
I watched his face. The furious, raging mafia boss suddenly vanished, replaced by a man who had just been backed into a corner with a gun to his head.
Luca’s eyes slowly moved from the phone to me.
“Where?” Luca asked the voice on the other end.
He listened for another ten seconds.
“If you touch her,” Luca said, his voice a dead, emotionless flatline, “I won't just kill you. I will burn your name out of history.”
He hung up the phone.
He looked at me. His dark eyes were filled with a terrible, crushing sorrow.
“Hannah,” Luca whispered.
My knees went weak. “Was it him? Was it Dominic?”
Luca nodded.
“He has your mother,” Luca said. “He’s holding her at the old Bellini shipping warehouse on the South Side. He knows we found the truth.”
“What does he want?” I choked out, tears spilling over my cheeks.
Luca looked down at the empty vial in his hand.
“He wants a trade,” Luca said. “The tape, the vial, and the toxicology report, in exchange for your mother’s life.”
“Then we give it to him!” I cried.
May you like
Luca shook his head slowly. “He also wants me to come alone. Unarmed. If I bring Marco, or if I don't show up in thirty minutes... he kills your mother.”
TITLE: The Choice at the Warehouse
