Chapter 3 – The Muddy Boots
Vanessa backed into the steel refrigerator doors. “Luca, I swear, I don’t know how that got in my bag!”
“You’ve been paying off the landlord,” Luca deduced, stepping toward her. “That’s why their rent was suddenly overdue. You were trying to force them out onto the street. Why? What are you looking for?”
“Nothing!” Vanessa shrieked. “I was trying to protect you! The Bishops are leeches!”
Before Luca could respond, the kitchen doors burst open.
Two of Luca’s massive security guards walked in, dragging Marco between them. The bodyguard’s suit was disheveled, and he looked terrified.
“We caught him trying to scale the back wall, Boss,” one of the guards reported, shoving Marco to his knees.
Luca walked slowly toward Marco. He didn’t yell. He didn’t raise his hands. But the sheer menace radiating from him made the entire kitchen staff back away.
“Where is the letter, Marco?” Luca asked quietly.
Marco swallowed hard, refusing to look at Vanessa. “I burned it, sir.”
Walter let out a devastated sob, sinking into a chair. Emma rushed to her grandfather, hugging him tightly.
“You burned Daniel’s last words?” Luca asked, his voice cracking slightly.
“I had to,” Marco whispered. “It had names.”
“Whose names?”
Marco finally looked up. “I don’t know, sir. It was a cipher. Just numbers and dates. But there was a message at the bottom. It said the real traitor wasn’t a rival family.”
Luca grabbed Marco by the collar, hauling the heavy man to his feet. “Who was it?”
“It said the bullet that killed Daniel came from one of your own guns,” Marco gasped.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Seventeen years ago, Luca had believed a rival gang killed his best friend. If Daniel was shot by one of Luca’s own men, it meant the traitor had been standing right next to them all along.
Luca dropped Marco. He turned to Vanessa. “Did you read it?”
“No!” Vanessa cried. “I told Marco to get rid of it because I knew it would just upset you! It’s ancient history, Luca!”
“It’s my life!” Luca roared, finally losing his temper.
He looked at the security guards. “Lock Marco in the basement. And get her out of my sight. Pack her bags. The engagement is over.”
“You can’t do this!” Vanessa screamed as the guards grabbed her arms. “My family will ruin you! You need our money!”
“I don’t need anything from you,” Luca spat.
As they dragged a kicking, screaming Vanessa out of the kitchen, I noticed something falling from Marco’s pocket.
It was a small, tightly folded piece of paper.
Wait. Marco said he burned the letter.
I quickly stepped forward and placed my foot over the paper before anyone could see.
Luca ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He looked at Walter and Emma. The old man was exhausted, and the young girl was shaking.
“Emily,” Luca said, his voice exhausted. “Take them to the guest wing. Make sure they have whatever they need. They aren’t leaving this house until I know they’re safe.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I helped Walter up, guiding him and Emma toward the staff exit.
As soon as we were alone in the quiet guest hallway, I bent down and picked up the paper from my shoe.
I unfolded it. It wasn’t yellowed, and it wasn’t a letter.
It was a child’s drawing.
Crayon on construction paper. It depicted three stick figures. A man with dark hair, a little girl holding a pink balloon, and another man standing behind them, holding a gun.
Emma gasped when she saw it. “That’s my drawing. I drew that the day after my dad died.”
I looked at the back of the drawing. Written in frantic, jagged handwriting was a single sentence.
The man who killed my daddy was wearing a gold ring with a black scorpion.
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