Chapter 5 - The Coat In The Hallway
The words hung in the air, toxic and heavy. My son was coming to kill my husband.
“No,” I whispered, stepping back from Sophia. “Jack isn't a killer. I raised him better than that.”
“You raised a boy, Rose,” Sophia said bitterly. “Dominic raised a mobster. And when you steal a man's wife and his child, blood is the only currency left.”
I looked toward the kitchen doors. I could hear the faint sound of Dominic’s voice, surprisingly gentle, talking to Leo about the hot chocolate he was making. It was a domestic scene straight out of a nightmare.
I had to stop Jack. I had to stop Dominic.
“Where is the ledger?” I asked Sophia. “The one Jack went to get?”
“I don't know,” she said, wiping her face. “But if Jack got it, the Rossis will be right behind him. They won't let him walk away with proof of their extortion.”
I needed a weapon. Not a gun, but leverage. Thirty-one years as a mafia wife had taught me one thing: you never enter a war without collateral.
I walked to the front closet. I pulled open the heavy oak doors. Inside hung Dominic’s winter coat, the heavy wool one he wore to his “business” meetings.
I ran my hands through the pockets. Receipts. A cigar cutter. Then, my fingers brushed against something hard and metallic in the inner lining.
I pulled it out.
It was a safety deposit box key, taped to a folded piece of paper. I opened the paper. It was a list of offshore account numbers, but that wasn't what made my heart stop.
Written at the bottom, in Dominic’s handwriting, was an address in Seattle. Jack’s fake address. And next to it, a date: Tomorrow.
Dominic wasn't surprised that Jack was in Chicago. He had known.
The reversal clicked into place, sickening and absolute. Dominic hadn't been blackmailed by the Rossis. He had orchestrated the whole thing. He was using Jack to flush out the Rossi boss, using his own grandson as bait.
“He knew,” I gasped, turning back to Sophia. “Dominic set Jack up.”
Before Sophia could answer, the kitchen doors swung open.
Dominic stood there. He wasn't holding a mug of hot chocolate. He was holding a silenced pistol.
And little Leo was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is my grandson?” I screamed, lunging forward.
Dominic caught my arm, his grip like a vice. “He’s safe in the pantry. And he’s going to stay there until this is over.”
“You monster!” I thrashed against him. “You’re using Jack as bait! You wanted the Rossis to follow him here!”
Dominic didn't look angry. He looked exhausted. “The Rossis got greedy, Rose. They wanted too much money to keep Elena quiet. I had to end it. Jack bringing the kid here just accelerated the timeline.”
“Dominic, please,” Sophia begged, stepping forward. “Don't do this. Jack is your son!”
Dominic pointed the gun at Sophia. “You talk too much, Sophia. You always did.”
Suddenly, the glass of the front bay window shattered inward in a shower of deadly shards.
Dominic shoved me to the floor as a hail of bullets tore through the living room.
I covered my head, the sound of gunfire deafening.
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When the shooting stopped, I looked up.
Sophia was lying on the floor, her red dress stained with a darker shade of crimson. And standing in the shattered window frame, holding a smoking rifle, was Jack.
