Chapter 5 – THE TRAP IN THE LIBRARY

“Hello, Eleanor,” Vanessa said softly, her red silk dress looking almost black in the dim light of the library. “I figured Luca would send you through the tunnels. He’s so predictable when he’s trying to play the hero.”

I stood frozen by the open bookcase, the heavy flashlight gripped tightly in my hand.

“Where is my grandson?” I demanded, my voice remarkably steady despite the terror icing my veins.

Vanessa smiled, a cold, empty expression that didn’t reach her eyes. “Noah is in the foyer with Marco. Such a brave little boy. He didn’t even cry when Marco tied him to the banister.”

Rage, pure and blinding, ignited in my chest.

“You gave him away,” I spat, taking a slow step forward. “You signed the papers. You took the money. You don’t love him. You just want the trust fund.”

Vanessa’s smile faltered. For a split second, the polished, arrogant facade cracked, revealing a deeply broken, dangerous woman underneath.

“You think I wanted to give him up?” she snarled, standing up from Claire’s armchair. She leveled the gun at my face. “I was twenty years old. I was drowning in medical debt for my mother. Claire sat across from me in that sterile clinic, wearing her expensive pearls, and offered me a check that felt like salvation. But it wasn’t.”

She began to pace, the gun never wavering.

“A year later, my mother died anyway. The money was gone. And I realized what I had done. I sold my own flesh and blood to a woman who couldn’t even give her husband a child naturally.”

“Claire loved Noah more than life itself,” I fired back. “She was a thousand times the mother you could ever be.”

“She stole my life!” Vanessa screamed, the sound echoing off the high bookshelves. “When I found out Luca Moretti was the father, I knew I had made a mistake. I approached Claire. I begged her to let me see him. She refused. She told me to stay away.”

“So you killed her.”

“I just wanted her out of the way!” Vanessa yelled, her hands shaking on the gun. “Marco approached me. He said he could make the crash look like an accident. I didn’t know he was going to cut the brakes! I just wanted her injured so I could step in!”

A sudden, deafening explosion shook the mansion.

Gunfire erupted from the front of the house. Luca had breached the foyer.

Vanessa flinched at the sound, her eyes darting toward the heavy oak doors of the library.

In that single second of distraction, I didn’t run away. I didn’t cower. I was a seventy-one-year-old grandmother who had lost her daughter, and I was not going to lose my grandson.

I gripped the heavy metal flashlight and threw it with all my might directly at Vanessa’s face.

It struck her squarely in the forehead.

Vanessa shrieked, the gun firing wildly into the ceiling as she stumbled backward, dropping the weapon.

I lunged forward, ignoring the searing pain in my arthritic knee, and kicked the gun under the heavy mahogany desk. Before Vanessa could recover, I grabbed the heavy brass fire poker from the hearth and stood over her.

“Don’t you move,” I breathed heavily, holding the iron rod high.

Vanessa looked up at me, blood trickling down her forehead, her eyes wide with shock. She had expected a fragile old woman. She hadn’t expected a mother’s wrath.

Another burst of gunfire rattled the walls. Then, silence.

I backed toward the heavy oak doors, keeping the poker aimed at Vanessa. I turned the brass key in the lock, securing us inside just as Luca had instructed, keeping Vanessa trapped.

“You think Luca won?” Vanessa laughed darkly from the floor, wiping the blood from her eyes. “Marco has six men. Luca walked into a firing squad.”

“My son-in-law is Luca Moretti,” I said coldly. “He doesn’t lose.”

Suddenly, the handle of the library door rattled violently.

Someone pounded on the heavy oak wood.

“Eleanor!” Luca’s voice roared from the hallway. “Open the door!”

Relief washed over me. I threw the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

Luca stood there, his white shirt stained with blood—none of it his own. Behind him in the hallway, several of Marco’s men lay unconscious or zip-tied, with Daniel and the SWAT team securing the perimeter.

But it was who Luca was holding that made my knees give out.

Noah.

My grandson buried his face in Luca’s neck, his small arms wrapped tightly around his father.

“Grandma!” Noah cried, turning and launching himself into my arms.

I dropped the fire poker and caught him, burying my face in his hair, breathing in the scent of him. He was safe. He was unharmed.

Luca stepped into the library. His dark eyes locked onto Vanessa, who was scrambling backward toward the window.

“It’s over, Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.

Detective Vance and two officers stepped into the room behind Luca, their weapons drawn. “Vanessa Whitmore, you are under arrest for fraud, extortion, and the murder of Claire Moretti.”

Vanessa backed against the glass of the window. She looked at the police, then at Luca, and finally at Noah, who was hiding behind my legs.

“Noah,” Vanessa pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “Noah, look at me. I’m your real mother. Not Claire. Me.”

Noah peeked out from behind my skirt. He looked at the woman who had terrorized him, lied to him, and tried to steal him.

“You’re not my mother,” Noah said, his small voice echoing clearly in the quiet room. “My mommy loved me. You just wanted my dad’s money. I want you to go away.”

The words struck Vanessa harder than the flashlight had. She crumpled against the wall, sobbing brokenly as the police moved in and snapped the handcuffs onto her wrists.

As they dragged her out of the room, Luca knelt beside us. He wrapped his massive arms around both me and Noah, holding us so tightly I felt his heartbeat against my chest.

“You’re safe,” Luca whispered into Noah’s hair. “Both of you. I’ve got you.”

“What about Marco?” I asked softly, looking over Luca’s shoulder.

Luca’s expression hardened. “He slipped out during the firefight. But he didn’t get far. Daniel tracked his car to the abandoned shipyard.”

Luca stood up, his dark eyes filled with absolute resolve.

“Take Noah upstairs, Eleanor,” Luca said. “I have a brother to bury.”

But as I turned to lead Noah out, my foot kicked something under Claire’s armchair.

I reached down and pulled out a small, heavy metal box covered in dirt.

It hadn’t been brought in by Vanessa. It had been pulled from the wall behind the bookshelf when I came through the secret tunnel.

The brass lock on the box was broken. I lifted the lid.

Inside was a faded photograph of Luca’s father, holding a ledger. And sitting on top of the photograph was a heavy gold pocket watch.

Luca stopped at the door. He stared at the watch in my hand, the color draining from his face.

“That’s impossible,” Luca breathed. “I put that watch in my father’s casket fifteen years ago.”

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