Chapter 6 – THE TRAITOR’S COAT

The gun in Luca’s hand didn’t waver, but his eyes betrayed his shock.

“Marco,” Luca said softly. “You’re the mole.”

Marco tossed his wet umbrella to the side. He didn’t draw his weapon, though dozens of Bellini’s men were now swarming the lobby outside the glass office doors.

“It was never personal, Luca,” Marco said, his voice calm and terrifyingly detached. “You were a good boss. But blood is thicker than water. Or so they say.”

Marco looked at my mother. She was clutching her chest, struggling to breathe as she stared at the son she thought had died in a fire.

“You’re my boy?” she choked out.

“Don’t call me that,” Marco snapped, his calm facade breaking for a fraction of a second. “My father is Roberto Bellini. He raised me. He gave me power. You threw me away.”

“I had no money!” she cried. “I was a child! I thought giving you to the church would save you!”

Marco sneered. “Instead, I got sold. But it worked out. When my adoptive father found out who my real mother was, he realized how useful I could be. He planted me in Luca’s crew. I’ve been reporting your every move for ten years.”

I stepped in front of my mother, shielding her.

“You killed Dr. Vance,” I said.

Marco glanced at the body on the floor. “Vance got greedy. He wanted a bigger payout for keeping the secret of the watch, and the secret of my adoption. I couldn’t let him ruin the plan.”

“And the drawing?” I demanded. “Why take it from her room?”

Marco unbuttoned his trench coat, revealing a thick, Kevlar vest underneath.

“To get you all out of the fortified estate,” Marco said with a smirk. “Vanessa failed to get rid of the old woman quietly. So, my father decided it was time to end the Moretti bloodline entirely. Here. Tonight.”

Luca stepped forward, blocking both me and my mother from Marco’s view.

“You’re surrounded, Marco. My men are still outside.”

Marco laughed. “Your men? They work for the highest bidder, Luca. And tonight, the Bellinis are paying triple.”

Luca realized it in an instant. The silence outside wasn’t because a battle hadn’t started. It was because his men had stood down.

We were completely trapped.

“Hand over the watch and the files, Luca,” Marco demanded, finally drawing his weapon. “And maybe I’ll make it quick.”

“Never,” Luca said.

Before Marco could fire, my mother suddenly pushed past me.

She didn’t run toward the door. She grabbed the heavy metal oxygen tank resting against the wall of the clinic and hurled it directly at the large plate-glass window facing the alleyway.

The glass shattered into a million pieces with an ear-splitting crash.

“Run!” my mother screamed.

Luca didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my hand, I grabbed my mother’s, and we dove through the broken window into the pouring rain.

Gunfire erupted behind us, bullets tearing through the drywall where we had just been standing.

We scrambled into the dark, narrow alley behind the clinic. The rain was coming down in sheets, hiding us in the shadows.

“This way!” Luca urged, pushing us toward a rusted chain-link fence at the end of the alley.

We climbed over just as Marco and two Bellini thugs kicked the back door of the clinic open. Flashlights swept the darkness, missing us by inches.

We ran for blocks, our lungs burning, until we collapsed under the shelter of an abandoned subway station entrance.

My mother leaned against the damp concrete wall, gasping for air. Her navy dress was torn, and she was soaked to the bone.

“I’m sorry,” she wept. “This is all my fault. If I had never—”

“Stop,” I said fiercely, hugging her tightly. “You did nothing wrong. They are monsters.”

Luca was pacing near the entrance, reloading his weapon.

“We have nothing,” Luca muttered, frustration radiating from him. “Marco has the files. He has my men. We are ghosts in our own city.”

He looked down at his ruined suit.

“Wait,” Luca said.

He reached into his jacket pocket.

“When Marco took off his coat… did you see what was underneath it?”

“A bulletproof vest,” I replied.

“No. Under that.”

Luca pulled something out of his pocket. It was the gold charm bracelet that belonged to his mother—the one he said Vanessa had left behind.

“I didn’t find this in Vanessa’s suite,” Luca confessed, looking at my mother. “I found it in Marco’s car three days ago. I thought he was sleeping with Vanessa. But now…”

My mother’s eyes widened.

“That’s not your mother’s bracelet,” she whispered.

Luca froze. “What?”

“Your mother’s bracelet was buried with her,” my mother said, pointing to the delicate gold chain. “I know, because I placed it on her wrist myself before they closed the casket.”

I stared at the jewelry. “Then whose is this?”

My mother took it from Luca’s hand, her fingers tracing a tiny, hidden latch on the back of the charm.

“It’s a replica,” she said. “Made by Roberto Bellini.”

She snapped the charm open.

Inside wasn’t a picture.

It was a tiny, flashing microchip.

“It’s a listening device,” Luca realized, horror dawning on his face. “They’ve been tracking our conversations for months.”

He grabbed the bracelet, ready to smash it under his heel.

“Wait!” I shouted, grabbing his arm. “Don’t break it.”

Luca looked at me like I was crazy. “They are tracking us, Sarah!”

“Exactly,” I said, my heart pounding as a desperate, insane plan formed in my mind. “They think they’re hunting us. But if we have the microphone… we control what they hear.”

I looked at Luca. “We can lay a trap.”

Luca’s eyes slowly lit up with a dangerous realization.

He handed the bracelet back to me.

“Where do we send them?”

Before I could answer, a set of headlights swept over the staircase of the subway entrance. Tires screeched on the wet pavement above us.

Car doors slammed. Heavy boots approached the stairs.

And then, a voice echoed down the concrete tunnel.

“I know you’re down there, Mary.”

My mother grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin.

It was Roberto Bellini.