Chapter 5 – THE MASTER LEDGER

I sat in the dark SUV, the rain hammering the roof, my mind fracturing in two.

Luca was inside the warehouse on Pier 9, facing Marco and trying to save my mother.

Arthur was back at the mansion, bleeding on the floor, while Vanessa prepared to burn the only thing that kept the Moretti empire together.

I looked at the warehouse. Luca had told me to stay in the car. He had walked in there to protect me.

But Arthur had protected Luca his entire life.

I grabbed the iron skeleton key and slid into the driver’s seat.

I didn’t know how to drive an armored SUV, but I remembered Arthur’s photograph. You let me drive into the rose bushes.

I slammed my foot on the gas.

The massive vehicle roared to life, tires spinning on the wet asphalt before catching grip. I tore away from the pier, speeding back toward the Moretti estate.

When I crashed through the iron front gates ten minutes later, the mansion was completely dark.

Marco’s loyalists must have cut the main power.

I grabbed a heavy flashlight from the glove compartment, my hands shaking violently as I stepped out into the storm.

The front doors were wide open.

I ran inside, my wet boots slipping on the marble foyer.

“Arthur!” I shouted.

No answer.

The smell of gasoline hit me instantly. Strong. Suffocating.

It was coming from the east wing. Luca’s private study.

I sprinted down the hallway, the beam of my flashlight cutting through the darkness.

When I reached the study, the heavy oak doors were pushed open.

Arthur was lying on the floor, clutching his head. Blood was pooling beneath him.

“Arthur!” I dropped to my knees, pressing my scarf against his wound.

“Rebecca,” he groaned, his eyes unfocused. “Stop her.”

I looked up.

Vanessa stood behind Luca’s massive mahogany desk. She was holding a silver lighter.

The room was soaked in gasoline. The antique rugs, the leather chairs, the drapes.

But resting in the center of the desk was a thick, black leather book.

The Master Ledger.

“Look who finally decided to act like a Bellini,” Vanessa smiled, her crimson dress stained with fuel. “I was wondering if you had any of our father’s blood in you, maid.”

“Put the lighter down, Vanessa,” I said, my voice trembling but loud. “Marco betrayed you. He’s at Pier 9 right now, trying to take the syndicate for himself.”

Vanessa laughed. “I know. Marco thinks he’s using me. But once this ledger burns, all of Luca’s secret accounts, his blackmail on the judges, his politicians… it all turns to ash. Marco will inherit a broken crown, and I will inherit the millions our father left behind.”

She stepped closer to the desk.

“It’s a shame about your mother, though. Marco promised to make it quick.”

Rage, hot and blinding, erupted in my chest.

This woman had tormented me for eighteen months. She had fired Arthur. She had manipulated Luca. And she was perfectly fine with my mother dying tonight.

I didn’t think. I acted.

I grabbed the heavy bronze bookend from a nearby shelf and threw it with all my strength.

It struck Vanessa’s wrist.

She shrieked in pain, dropping the silver lighter.

It clattered to the floor, rolling away from the puddle of gasoline.

I lunged forward, tackling her to the ground.

We crashed onto the fuel-soaked rug. Vanessa clawed at my face, her nails tearing into my cheek.

“You stupid maid!” she screamed, punching my ribs.

The Kevlar vest Luca had given me absorbed the blow.

I grabbed her hair, slamming her head back onto the floor, and scrambled up, rushing to the desk.

I grabbed the heavy black ledger, clutching it to my chest.

“You’re not destroying this family!” I yelled.

Vanessa staggered to her feet, her eyes wild with fury. She reached into her dress and pulled out a small, pearl-handled revolver.

She aimed it directly at my face.

“Goodbye, little sister.”

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out.

But it didn’t come from Vanessa.

Vanessa gasped, dropping her gun as her shoulder exploded in blood. She collapsed against the bookshelves.

I spun around, terrified.

Standing in the doorway, bleeding from a cut above his eye, his suit torn, was Luca.

And standing right behind him, trembling but alive, was my mother.

“Mom!” I screamed, dropping the ledger and running to her.

I threw my arms around her fragile body, sobbing uncontrollably.

Luca walked slowly into the room, his gun still raised, pointing it at a groaning Vanessa.

“You survived Marco,” Vanessa spat, clutching her bleeding shoulder.

“Marco is dead,” Luca said coldly. “His men surrendered the moment I showed them I had the backing of the New York families. You lost, Vanessa.”

He looked at me, then at my mother.

“Is everyone alright?” Luca asked, his voice softening.

I nodded, crying tears of relief. Arthur was sitting up, groaning but alive.

The nightmare was finally over.

But as my mother hugged me back, her hands moved down to my pockets.

And she quickly, silently, slipped something into my coat.

I pulled back, looking at her in confusion.

She put a finger to her lips, her eyes wide with absolute terror.

She didn’t look at Vanessa.

She looked at Luca.

I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing against cold, hard metal.

It was a police badge.

Covered in fresh blood.

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