Chapter 5 – The Man In The Shadows

Victoria stared at the deposit slip, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“No,” she stammered. “No, that’s impossible. Dad doesn’t even know how to use an ATM. He couldn’t orchestrate a mafia extortion scheme!”

Andrew was pale, clutching the back of a dining chair to keep himself standing.

“He’s right,” Andrew said, his voice trembling. “Dad’s mind has been slipping for the last two years. He forgets to lock the front door. He wouldn’t know how to set up an offshore account.”

Matteo stared at the paper, his mind working furiously.

“If Arthur didn’t set up the account,” Matteo said slowly, “then someone else is using his identity. Someone who knew about his past with the Morettis. Someone who knew Victoria would panic and steal the money.”

I looked down at the empty velvet box on the table.

“Wait,” I said, piecing it together. “Arthur said he brought the bracelet today because his father asked him to. But Victoria said she went to his store yesterday to hide the photograph.”

Matteo turned to me, his dark eyes intense. “What are you saying, Grace?”

“If Arthur didn’t know about the blackmail, why did he bring the box today? He said he was just returning the jewelry. But who told him to bring it directly to you, during an engagement dinner, surrounded by your guards?”

Victoria’s eyes widened. “Uncle Carmine.”

Matteo froze. “Carmine?”

“My father’s brother,” Victoria whispered. “He moved back to Chicago three months ago. He’s the one who introduced me to the Moretti family accountant. He told me they were looking for Grace.”

Matteo’s face contorted with absolute rage.

“Carmine Hayes,” Matteo hissed.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the front of the mansion.

We all jumped.

The heavy oak doors of the dining room burst open.

Three of Matteo’s massive security guards were thrown backward into the room, groaning in pain.

Stepping over their bodies was a man in a sharp grey pinstripe suit. He had silver hair slicked back and a cruel, calculating smile.

He was holding a suppressed pistol.

Behind him stood half a dozen heavily armed men wearing the Moretti family crest on their jackets.

“Hello, Victoria,” Uncle Carmine said, his voice smooth and terrifying.

Victoria backed away, terrified. “Uncle Carmine? What are you doing?”

“Collecting my retirement,” Carmine smiled. He looked at Matteo. “Mr. Russo. A pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Matteo stood tall, shielding me behind his broad shoulders.

“You’re a dead man, Carmine,” Matteo said coldly.

Carmine laughed. “I don’t think so. You see, your men outside have been quietly neutralized. My associates here control the perimeter. And I have something you want very much.”

Carmine snapped his fingers.

Two Moretti thugs dragged a young boy into the room.

He was no older than eight, crying hysterically, clutching a small, stuffed bear.

Andrew let out a guttural scream. “Leo!”

My heart dropped.

“Who is that?” I whispered to Matteo.

“My nephew,” Andrew cried, trying to run forward, but a guard struck him in the stomach with a rifle butt, dropping him to his knees. “He’s my nephew! Please don’t hurt him!”

Victoria covered her mouth, sobbing. “Leo is my son. I gave him up for adoption when I was sixteen. Carmine… how did you find him?”

Carmine smiled. “I never lost him, my dear. I’ve been paying his foster family to keep him quietly tucked away. He’s my ultimate insurance policy.”

Carmine pointed his gun directly at the little boy’s head.

“Now,” Carmine said smoothly. “Let’s discuss the transfer of the Russo family assets.”

But before Matteo could speak, Carmine’s eyes locked onto me.

His smile faded.

“Well, well,” Carmine whispered. “If it isn’t Isabella Russo. I brought you a gift, my dear.”

He reached into his pocket and tossed a small object onto the rug.

It was a rusted, silver rosary.

“Recognize it?” Carmine asked. “Your mother was holding it when I cut her brake lines twenty-six years ago.”

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