Chapter 7 – THE ORPHANAGE AND THE BURNED LEDGER

“Mia, hide!” I yelled into the phone. “Don’t let him see you!”

The line went dead.

Matteo didn’t ask questions. He grabbed his coat. “Luca, get the cars. Now.”

We left Arthur under hospital guard and drove three hours north in the pouring rain. The SUV tires tore through the mud as we reached Saint Jude’s Home, an isolated brick building surrounded by dead pine trees.

The front doors were smashed open.

Matteo pulled his sidearm. Luca and two other men fanned out.

I stayed close behind Matteo, my heart hammering against my ribs.

We found the Mother Superior tied to a chair in the office. Luca cut her loose.

“Where is the girl?” Matteo demanded.

“The boiler room,” the nun cried. “A man in a grey suit took her down there!”

We ran down the concrete stairs. The basement was suffocatingly hot, filled with the roar of the massive furnace.

Standing by the open furnace door was Richard’s driver. He had one hand clamped over little Mia’s mouth. His other hand held a lighter.

Mia’s eyes were wide with terror. She clutched a dirty stuffed bear.

“Drop the gun, Moretti,” the driver shouted over the roar of the flames.

Matteo aimed straight at the man’s head. “Let my niece go.”

“Mr. Vale said I don’t leave without the microfiche,” the driver yelled. “Slide it across the floor, or I throw the kid in the fire!”

Matteo froze. He pulled the tiny square of plastic from his pocket. The ledger. The only thing keeping Richard Vale from taking over the city. The only justice Arthur had left.

I looked at Mia. She was the same age my little sister was when we lost our father.

Matteo looked at the microfiche. Then he looked at his niece.

Without a word, Matteo tossed the microfiche across the concrete floor.

The driver smirked. He shoved Mia to the ground, scooped up the plastic, and backed toward the rear exit door.

“Pleasure doing business,” the driver sneered, disappearing into the rainy night.

Mia sobbed on the floor.

Matteo holstered his gun and dropped to his knees. He pulled the little girl into a tight embrace.

“It’s okay,” Matteo whispered into her hair. “Uncle Matteo is here. You’re safe.”

Mia clung to his neck. For the first time all night, the mafia boss looked like a father.

I walked over and picked up the stuffed bear Mia had dropped.

But as I brushed the dirt off it, my fingers felt something hard stitched inside the bear’s back.

A hard, metallic rectangle.

I looked at the seam. It had been opened and hastily sewn shut with thick, clumsy thread.

“Mr. Moretti,” I said, pulling a pocket knife from my apron.

I sliced the thread.

Inside the stuffing was a heavy gold money clip.

Engraved on it was the name: Leo Moretti.

Matteo took the clip. He opened it.

Tucked inside was a handwritten letter from his brother, Leo.

Matteo read it aloud.

“If you find this, it means Richard Vale betrayed me. I didn’t forge the loan, Matteo. Richard forced me to steal the company seal. But I stole something from him in return. The key to the safety deposit box holding the original blackmail tapes. He doesn’t own us anymore.”

Matteo stared at the key tucked behind the letter.

The reversal was complete. Richard thought he had won by stealing the microfiche. But he had just traded his empire for a piece of plastic, while leaving the real weapon in a child’s toy.

Matteo stood up, holding Mia’s hand.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

But as we walked up the stairs, my phone buzzed. A text from my mother.

“Emma, men are outside our apartment. They say you owe them fifty thousand dollars.”

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