GIVE ME THAT KEY, YOU IGNORANT LITTLE MAID! YOU DON'T EVEN SPEAK ITALIAN!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED HIS 25-YEAR-OLD HOUSEKEEPER IN FRONT OF FIFTY DINNER GUESTS—BUT WHEN THE MAID REFUSED TO HAND OVER THE KEY TO HIS NINE-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER'S BEDROOM -

Chapter 9 – THE GHOST OF THE PAST

The warmth of the hospital room vanished, replaced by a chilling silence.

Luca reached out and took the gold signet ring from the velvet box. He traced the heavy crest—a wolf clutching a dagger—with a trembling thumb.

“Marco,” Luca whispered, the name tasting like ash.

“He died in the explosion in Palermo,” Elena said, her voice shaking as she clutched her hospital blankets. “We saw the car burn, Luca. We buried his ashes.”

“Vanessa knew,” Rosa said grimly, closing the empty velvet box. “She confessed during her FBI interrogation an hour ago. She’s been working with Marco for the last three years. The car bomb in Palermo was a decoy to let him escape his debts. He let you mourn him while he built his own empire in the shadows.”

I watched Luca’s face harden. The father who had just wept with joy over his reunited family was gone. The ruthless head of the Moretti family had returned.

“Why now?” Luca asked, his voice dead flat. “If he’s been hiding for ten years, why send Vanessa to destroy us now?”

“Because of the Ledger,” Rosa explained. “The FBI seized the bank accounts of the Syndicate this morning. But Marco’s wealth wasn’t in those banks. It’s in a vault in Geneva. And the only way to access it is with the two master keys.”

Rosa looked directly at me.

“Your grandmother had the Ledger,” Rosa said. “But my sister also hid something else before she died. She hid the first key.”

“I don’t have a key!” I said, panic rising in my chest. “I swear, Rosa. My grandmother left me nothing but the bracelet.”

“Think, Emily,” Rosa pressed. “Sophia wouldn’t have left it unprotected. It’s an antique key. Heavy iron. Did she leave you anything else? A music box? A locket?”

I shook my head, tears of frustration pricking my eyes.

But Isabella tugged on my sweater.

“Emily,” the little girl whispered. “What about the key the locksmith made?”

Luca turned to his daughter. “What do you mean, Bella?”

“The man who fixed my door,” Isabella said softly. “Antonio. When he was working, I saw him drop a heavy iron key from his tool bag. He panicked and hid it in his pocket.”

Luca’s eyes widened. “Vanessa hired Antonio. Not just to lock the doors… but to search the house.”

“Antonio is still in police custody,” I said, remembering the train platform.

Luca pulled his phone out. “Vincenzo. I need you at the precinct. Squeeze the locksmith. Find out where he put that key.”

He hung up and looked at Elena. “I have to go.”

“No,” Elena pleaded, reaching for his hand. “Luca, let the FBI handle Marco.”

“The FBI doesn’t know my brother,” Luca said coldly. “If he wants a war, I’ll end it today.”

He turned to leave, but his phone buzzed loudly.

It was an unknown number.

Luca put it on speaker.

“Hello, little brother.”

The voice was smooth, cultured, and dripping with venom.

Elena gasped.

“Marco,” Luca growled.

“I see you found my ring,” Marco chuckled over the phone. “I left it for you as a warning. Vanessa was a useful idiot, but she failed me.”

“You’re a coward, Marco. Come face me yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” Marco said softly. “But first, I want my key. And I know exactly where it is. Check the pocket of the pretty little maid’s winter coat. The one hanging in your hallway.”

My blood froze.

“If you don’t bring me that key in one hour, Luca,” Marco whispered, “I’ll trigger the explosives I had Antonio wire into the foundation of your precious mansion.”