Chapter 4 – THE TICKET TO NOWHERE

“Step away from the girl, Marco.”

Vanessa’s voice shook, but the barrel of the heavy black pistol was pointed directly at Marco’s chest.

Mia screamed and buried her face in my side. I wrapped my arms tightly around her, my mind racing.

Marco didn’t raise his hands. He just stared at the woman he had supposedly been protecting.

“You don’t want to do this, Vanessa,” Marco said calmly. “Luca already knows you lied about the library. You pull that trigger, and you’ll never leave this house.”

“Luca is downstairs drinking his whiskey, trying to figure out how to avoid a public scandal,” Vanessa sneered. “He cares more about his reputation than he ever cared about Elena. Now, give me the photograph.”

She turned the gun toward me.

“Hand it over, maid.”

My heart hammered in my throat. “I don’t have it.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Vanessa snapped. “I saw the girl pick up the cufflink. I know the picture was inside it. Give it to me now, or I swear to God—”

“Or what?”

The voice came from the hallway.

Deep. Cold. Absolute.

Vanessa froze.

Luca Moretti stepped into the doorway, standing right behind Vanessa.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t lunge for the gun. He just stood there, exuding a quiet, lethal authority.

“Put the gun down, Vanessa,” Luca said.

Vanessa’s hand trembled, but she didn’t lower the weapon. “She has something of mine, Luca. A picture. Marco planted it to frame me.”

“I said, put it down.”

Luca reached out and wrapped his hand over the top of the pistol, forcing the barrel down toward the floor. He easily stripped it from her grip and tossed it onto the bed.

Vanessa stumbled back, gasping.

Luca walked past her. He crouched down beside the bed, right in front of Mia and me.

“Are you hurt, baby?” he asked softly.

Mia shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled photograph and the cufflink.

She pressed them into her father’s hands.

Luca looked at the cufflink first. He recognized Marco’s silver wolf immediately.

Then, he unfolded the photograph.

For a long moment, the room was dead silent. Luca stared at the image of his dead wife’s crushed car, and the woman standing next to it wearing her coat.

Luca stood up. He looked at Marco.

“You were there,” Luca stated. It wasn’t a question.

“I got there too late, Boss,” Marco said, his voice thick with regret. “Elena called me. She said someone ran her off the road. When I arrived, the car was already in the ditch. And Vanessa was standing over it, wearing Elena’s coat.”

Vanessa let out a shrill laugh. “He’s lying! Luca, he’s lying! He was the one driving the car that ran her off the road! I was trying to save her!”

Luca turned to Vanessa.

His eyes were entirely hollow.

“If you were trying to save her,” Luca whispered, “why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

Vanessa opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“You came back to my house that night,” Luca continued, his voice dangerously even. “You sat in my living room, drank my scotch, and held my hand while the police told me my wife was dead. You never said you were there.”

“I was scared!” Vanessa cried, tears finally spilling. “I knew how it would look!”

Luca looked at the photograph again.

“She wasn’t dead when this picture was taken,” Luca said.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“What?” Marco asked, stepping forward.

Luca pointed to the corner of the photograph. “The brake lights are still on. Elena’s foot was on the pedal. She was alive when you two were standing there.”

Vanessa took another step back, hitting the doorframe.

“She took something from Elena’s coat pocket,” Marco said suddenly. “Before the cops came. I saw her take it, but I didn’t know what it was.”

Luca turned his terrifying gaze onto his fiancée.

“What did you take, Vanessa?”

“Nothing! I took nothing!”

Mia suddenly reached into the pocket of her dress again.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

Luca knelt back down immediately. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Mia held out a small, faded piece of heavy paper.

“I found this inside the lining of Mommy’s coat when Vanessa put it in the box,” Mia said. “It slipped through a hole in the pocket.”

Luca took it.

It was a train ticket.

Dated the night of the accident.

One-way.

From Chicago to Montreal.

But it wasn’t for one person.

The ticket was printed for two passengers: Elena Moretti, and Rachel Morgan.