Chapter 9 – THE SECOND LEDGER

The warmth of the restaurant evaporated instantly.

Luca’s arm dropped from my waist. He stepped past me, his eyes locked on the leather-bound book clutched against the boy’s dirty jacket.

“Where did you get that?” Luca asked, his voice returning to the low, commanding tone of the man who used to run the streets.

The boy shrank back, taking a half-step toward the door.

I quickly moved around Luca and knelt down so I was eye-level with the child. I forced a gentle smile, pushing down the spike of panic rising in my throat.

“Hey,” I said softly. “I’m Hannah. It’s okay. You’re safe here. What’s your name?”

The boy swallowed hard. He looked at the heavy wooden door behind him, as if expecting someone to burst through it.

“Leo,” he whispered.

“Okay, Leo,” I said, keeping my voice soothing. “You said your mom told you to find me. Why did she tell you to give me that book?”

Leo’s hands shook as he held out the ledger. It was identical to the one we found in the cellar—dark blue leather, heavily bound, weather-beaten. But this one had a small silver lock attached to the side.

“She said… she said you know what it means to be saved by the Morettis,” Leo stammered. “She said you’re the only one who won’t let them burn it.”

I glanced up at Luca. The color had drained from his face.

He reached out and gently took the book from the boy. He turned it over in his hands, examining the binding, the lock, the weight of it.

“Mom,” Luca called out quietly.

Teresa hurried over from the corner table, my mother watching anxiously from her seat. Teresa took one look at the book in Luca’s hands and let out a sharp gasp.

“Mio Dio,” Teresa whispered. “There were two.”

“Two what?” Luca asked.

“Your father…” Teresa struggled to find the words, her eyes darting between the book and the terrified boy. “He always said a man with one ledger is a target. A man with two ledgers is a ghost.”

Matteo walked out of the back office, wiping his hands on a towel. He saw the book and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Is that the Chicago shadow-book?” Matteo asked, his voice tight.

“What is a shadow-book?” I asked, standing up and placing a protective hand on Leo’s shoulder.

Matteo walked closer, staring at the locked leather binding.

“When my father ran the territory,” Matteo explained grimly, “the first ledger—the one you found in the cellar—tracked the good deeds. The hospital bills. The debts paid. The promises kept.”

Matteo looked up at his brother.

“The shadow-book tracks the bodies,” Matteo said. “The bribes. The dirty cops, the politicians, the judges. The people the commission bought and buried to keep their empire running.”

Luca stared at the book in his hands as if it were a live bomb.

“If this is the shadow-book,” Luca muttered, “it has enough evidence inside to bring down every mafia family from here to New York. It would destroy Uncle Roberto. It would destroy the commission.”

“And whoever holds it,” Matteo added, “controls the city.”

Luca looked down at Leo. “Kid, who is your mother? How did she get this?”

Leo’s lower lip trembled.

“She’s a maid,” Leo whispered. “She works at the Bellini estate.”

The name hit the room like a physical blow.

Vanessa’s family.

“Vanessa’s father was killed,” Luca said, his brow furrowing in confusion. “His assets were seized by Don Roberto. The estate is empty.”

“No, it’s not,” Leo said, tears finally spilling over his dirty cheeks. “The lady in the red dress came back last night. She brought men with guns. They were tearing the house apart looking for this.”

Vanessa.

She hadn’t fled the city. After being thrown into the alley like garbage, she had gone back to her father’s estate. She was looking for the ultimate leverage to buy her way back into power.

“My mom found it hidden behind a painting in Mr. Bellini’s office,” Leo cried, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “She knew the lady in the red dress was going to kill everyone who knew about it. She gave it to me and told me to run. She told me to find the girl who saved the Moretti restaurant.”

My stomach plummeted.

Vanessa’s father must have stolen the shadow-book from Luca’s dad twenty-five years ago. That was how Bellini had maintained his power for so long. He had the blackmail material on the entire commission.

And now, Vanessa was trying to get it back.

“Where is your mother now, Leo?” I asked gently.

“She’s trapped,” Leo sobbed. “They locked her in the basement. They said if she doesn’t tell them where I went, they’re going to burn the house down with her inside.”

I stood up straight and looked at Luca.

His eyes were dark, a terrifying storm brewing behind them. The legitimate businessman who had walked out of the shadows a week ago was suddenly gone. The mafia boss had returned.

“We have to help her,” I said.

“It’s a suicide mission, Hannah,” Matteo warned, stepping forward. “If Vanessa has men with guns, they’re mercenaries. She has nothing left to lose. If we go in there, we’re starting a war we just bought our way out of.”

“I don’t care,” Luca said coldly.

He walked over to a heavy wooden cabinet near the bar, unlocked it, and pulled out a sleek, black handgun. He checked the magazine and racked the slide with a sharp clack.

He looked at his brother.

“You stay here and protect the women,” Luca ordered.

“Like hell I will,” Matteo growled, opening the cabinet and pulling out a second weapon. “I owe Bellini’s bloodline a debt. Let’s go collect.”

Luca didn’t argue. He turned to me.

“Lock the doors. Drop the steel shutters. Do not open this door for anyone except me or Matteo. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my heart racing. “Bring his mother back, Luca.”

“I will,” he promised.

He and Matteo rushed out the front door, the engine of Matteo’s town car roaring to life seconds later. Tires squealed against the pavement as they sped off into the night.

I immediately locked the deadbolt and pulled the heavy steel security shutters down over the windows. The restaurant was plunged into dim, fortified silence.

I ushered Leo to the back office, sitting him down with a plate of warm bread and a glass of milk. Teresa and my mother sat near him, trying to keep him calm.

I paced the floor behind the bar, my eyes glued to the security camera monitor that showed the empty street outside.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. The silence was agonizing.

Suddenly, the phone on the bar rang.

I jumped. I stared at the flashing red light.

Luca had told me not to answer the phones after hours. But what if it was him? What if he was hurt?

I snatched the receiver. “Hello?”

A sharp, cruel laugh echoed through the earpiece.

“Hello, Hannah.”

My blood ran cold. It was Vanessa.

“You sent them right into the trap, you stupid little maid,” Vanessa hissed.

“Where are they?” I demanded, my grip tightening on the phone.

“Oh, they’re here at the estate,” Vanessa purred. “Bleeding on my father’s Persian rug. But I didn’t call to gloat. I called to offer a trade.”

“What trade?”

“Look at your security monitor, Hannah.”

I snapped my head toward the small television screen on the bar.

A black van had just pulled up directly in front of the restaurant. The side door slid open. Three men in tactical gear stepped out, carrying heavy assault rifles.

“You have the shadow-book,” Vanessa said coldly. “Bring it outside in exactly sixty seconds. If you don’t, my men are going to blow the steel shutters off your precious restaurant, kill your mother, kill the old woman, and take the book anyway.”

Vanessa’s voice dropped to a vicious whisper.

“And when they have the book, I’ll put a bullet in Luca’s head myself. Sixty seconds, Hannah. Tick tock.”