Chapter 4 – THE DRAWING ON THE BELLINI LEDGER

The wood of the front door exploded inward in a shower of splinters.

“Out the window, Claire! Go!” Luca shouted.

He didn’t hesitate. He thrust Lily into my arms, spun around, and drew his weapon in one fluid motion. The heavy crack of his gun firing echoed off the narrow apartment walls, deafening me. The first man through the door dropped to the linoleum.

I threw my leg over the window sill and scrambled onto the rusted metal of the fire escape. The cold rain soaked through my thin blouse instantly.

“Mommy, I’m scared!” Lily cried, burying her face in my neck as I held her tight with one arm, gripping the slippery railing with the other.

“Don’t look, baby, just hold on tight!” I yelled over the storm.

Luca climbed out the window behind us, his eyes scanning the dark alleyway below. He fired two more shots into the apartment to keep the men pinned down, then grabbed my shoulder.

“Down! Fast!”

We practically slid down the slick metal stairs. My shoes slipped on the final landing, but Luca caught my waist, easily lowering me and Lily to the asphalt.

“This way,” he ordered, keeping his body between us and the street.

We ran through the narrow alley, our footsteps splashing in the deep puddles. When we reached the next street over, Luca’s armored SUV was idling where his driver had moved it. Marco threw the back door open.

“Get in!” Marco yelled.

I dove into the backseat with Lily. Luca slid in beside us, slamming the heavy armored door just as a bullet sparked off the reinforced glass window.

“Drive!” Luca commanded.

The SUV tore away from the curb, leaving the Bellini hitmen behind in the rain.

I collapsed against the leather seat, gasping for air. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely hold Lily.

The car was dark and silent, save for the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers.

Then, a tiny voice broke the quiet.

“Mommy? Is it still my birthday?”

I looked down at Lily. She was completely dry, wrapped in my arms, staring up at me with wide, innocent eyes.

I choked on a sob, pulling her closer. “Yes, baby. It’s still your birthday.”

Luca reached into the front seat and pulled out the small blue lunchbox he had carried from the mansion. He gently placed it on Lily’s lap.

“Happy birthday, Lily,” Luca said softly. His voice, usually so commanding and sharp, was incredibly gentle.

Lily’s eyes lit up. She unlatched the blue plastic box.

Inside, the foil package was slightly squished, but the vanilla cake was perfectly intact. The seven pink candles were laying neatly beside it.

“Look, Mommy!” Lily beamed. “It didn’t break!”

“It didn’t break,” I whispered, wiping my tears.

Lily carefully broke off a piece of the cake with her fingers. But instead of eating it, she held it up to my mouth.

“You get the first bite,” she said. “Because you always let me have yours.”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. A tear slipped down my cheek as I took the tiny bite of vanilla cake. It tasted like sugar and sheer survival.

Luca watched us in the dim light of the backseat. The hardened mafia boss, a man who commanded fear across the city, looked entirely undone by a seven-year-old sharing a piece of stolen cake.

“Lily,” Luca said gently after she had taken a bite. “When you found your daddy’s coat… was there anything else in the pockets? Before the bad men came?”

Lily chewed her cake thoughtfully. “Yes.”

My heart leaped. “What was it, sweetie?”

Lily reached into the pocket of her little denim dress.

She pulled out a heavy string of wooden beads. At the end hung a tarnished silver cross.

I gasped. It was a rosary.

Luca froze. All the air seemed to leave the car.

He slowly reached out and took the rosary from Lily’s small hand. He ran his thumb over the wooden beads, his hands trembling.

“Boss?” Marco asked nervously from the front seat, looking in the rearview mirror. “Is that…?”

“It’s my mother’s,” Luca whispered, his voice hollow. “She was holding this the night she was killed. Ten years ago.”

I stared at him in horror. “Why did David have it?”

Luca looked up at me, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying realization.

“Because Vanessa’s family didn’t just steal from me,” Luca said. “They orchestrated the hit on my mother. And David was the getaway driver.”

The car plunged into silence.

Luca tightened his fist around the rosary. “He took this to prove he was there. He kept it as insurance.”

He leaned forward, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

“Marco. Take us to the summer house. We are finishing this tonight.”