The Man In The Velvet Chair

The heavy steel door slammed shut behind us, the sound echoing through the cavernous warehouse like a gunshot.

“Mom!” I screamed, my voice tearing through the damp, oily air.

I tried to run toward her, but Luca’s arm shot out like an iron bar, slamming across my chest and pinning me behind him.

“Stay behind me,” Luca ordered in a low, lethal whisper.

My mother weakly lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen, and blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, but when she saw me, panic flooded her face.

“Hannah, run!” she rasped, struggling against the ropes tying her to the wooden chair. “Get out of here!”

“Shut her up,” Dominic sneered.

Vanessa stepped forward and cracked the butt of the shotgun across my mother’s shoulder.

My mother cried out in pain, slumping sideways.

“Don't touch her!” I shrieked, fighting against Luca’s grip.

Luca didn't flinch. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked on the man who had been his brother in everything but blood for fifteen years.

“I’m here, Dominic,” Luca said. His voice was terrifyingly calm. It wasn't the voice of a man negotiating. It was the voice of the Reaper. “Let the woman go. This is between you and me.”

Dominic laughed. The sound was sharp and manic, bouncing off the corrugated steel walls.

“Nothing is just between you and me anymore, Luca,” Dominic said, stepping out from behind the chair. His silver pistol was still aimed at my mother’s head. “You brought the maid. How poetic. The girl who served my dinner is going to watch her mother die.”

“I brought the evidence,” Luca said, raising his empty hands to show he wasn't holding a weapon. He nodded slightly toward me.

I stepped out slightly from behind Luca’s broad shoulders, my hands shaking violently as I held up the manila folder.

“The toxicology report,” I yelled, trying to make my voice stop trembling. “The empty vial. And the recording of you blackmailing Vanessa. It’s all here.”

Vanessa’s face went pale. “He found the recording?” she whispered to Dominic.

“It doesn't matter what he found,” Dominic snapped, glaring at Vanessa. “Because neither of them is leaving this room alive.”

Vanessa’s grip on the shotgun faltered. “Dominic, that wasn't the deal. You said we trade the woman for the evidence, kill Luca, and get on the plane to Bogotá.”

Dominic looked at her with pure, unadulterated disgust.

“You really are as stupid as your father, Vanessa,” Dominic sneered. “You think I’m leaving a loose end like the maid alive? Or her mother? Once I have the evidence, I kill all three of them. Then I tell the Commission that Luca went crazy, killed his fiancée, and I had to put him down.”

Vanessa stared at Dominic, the horrifying reality finally sinking in. She wasn't a partner. She was just another pawn he planned to sacrifice.

“Put the gun down, Vanessa,” Luca said softly, his dark eyes fixing on his former fiancée. “He’s going to kill you the second I’m dead. You know it. I know it. Walk away now, and I’ll let you leave Chicago alive.”

Vanessa’s hands shook. She looked at the shotgun, then at Dominic.

“Don't listen to him,” Dominic barked, raising his pistol and aiming it at Luca. “Shoot him, Vanessa! Now!”

“Tick tock, Dominic,” Luca said smoothly, completely ignoring the gun pointed at his chest.

He took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“What are you doing?” Dominic demanded, taking a half-step back.

“I’m looking at a dead man,” Luca replied.

Luca wasn't looking at Dominic’s face. He was looking at the concrete floor beneath Dominic’s feet.

The heavy iron drainage grate.

I held my breath. Where was Marco? It had been twenty minutes. They should be in the tunnels.

“Stop walking!” Dominic screamed, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“You killed Catherine,” Luca said, taking another step. “You let my wife die in a freezing river, and you took a piece of jewelry off her corpse to blackmail a pathetic girl into giving you my empire.”

“I built this empire!” Dominic roared. “Your father was weak! You were weak! I deserved to sit at the head of the table!”

“You deserved to die in the gutter,” Luca said coldly.

He took one final step.

“Kill him, Vanessa!” Dominic shrieked.

Vanessa raised the shotgun, aiming it directly at Luca’s back.

My heart stopped.

I didn't think. I didn't care about the rules. I dropped the manila folder and threw myself in front of Luca, bracing for the impact of the shotgun blast.

But the gunshot didn't come from Vanessa.

It came from beneath the floor.

With a deafening roar of shattering concrete and metal, the heavy iron drainage grate directly beneath Dominic exploded upward.

Dominic screamed as the ground gave way under his feet.

Before he could pull the trigger on his pistol, a massive, scarred hand shot out of the dark hole in the floor and grabbed Dominic by the ankle, yanking him violently downward.

Dominic slammed face-first into the concrete, his silver pistol clattering across the warehouse floor.

Marco pulled himself out of the tunnel, covered in mud and rust, his assault rifle raised. Behind him, five of Luca’s heavily armed tactical men swarmed out of the hole, weapons drawn.

“Drop it!” Marco roared at Vanessa.

Vanessa let out a terrified shriek and dropped the shotgun, falling to her knees and throwing her hands in the air.

It was over in seconds.

Dominic struggled on the floor, bleeding from a broken nose, but two of Luca’s men pinned him down, slamming a knee into his back and zip-tying his hands behind him.

I didn't wait for Luca’s permission.

I sprinted past the chaos and fell to my knees beside my mother’s chair.

“Mom! Mom, I’m here!” I sobbed, frantically untying the thick ropes binding her wrists.

My mother collapsed forward into my arms, weeping into my shoulder. “You came for me, Hannah. Oh my god, you came for me.”

“I’m never leaving you again,” I cried, holding her so tightly I thought my own ribs might crack.

I looked up through my tears.

Luca was standing over Dominic Rossi.

Dominic looked up at Luca, blood pouring from his nose, a sick, defiant smile still twisted on his face.

“Go ahead, Luca,” Dominic spat, coughing up blood. “Kill me. You’ll never get the fifteen years back. You’ll never get Catherine back.”

Luca looked down at the man who had betrayed him in the most unimaginable way.

He slowly reached into his jacket.

He didn't pull out a gun.

He pulled out the heavy, silver pocket watch. The watch Dominic had carried for twenty years. The watch containing Catherine’s photograph.

Luca opened the watch, took the photograph out, and put it safely in his own pocket.

Then, Luca dropped the heavy silver watch onto the concrete floor.

He raised the heel of his heavy leather shoe and brought it down with crushing force, shattering the silver watch into a hundred jagged, broken pieces.

“I’m not going to kill you, Dominic,” Luca said quietly.

Dominic’s defiant smile faded.

“Marco,” Luca ordered, turning his back on his former friend. “Hand him over to the Chicago Commission. Give them the tape and the toxicology report. Let the families decide how long it takes him to die.”

Dominic’s eyes widened in absolute horror. Being killed by Luca would be quick. Being handed over to the Commission for treason meant weeks of agonizing torture in a dark basement.

“No!” Dominic screamed, struggling violently against the guards. “Luca! Luca, shoot me! Look at me! Shoot me!”

Luca ignored him.

He walked over to where I was kneeling with my mother.

The towering, terrifying mafia boss gently dropped to one knee on the filthy warehouse floor. He reached out and carefully helped my mother stand, supporting her fragile weight against his strong arm.