Chapter 7 – The Train Ticket

“She’s leaving us again,” Isabella whispered, her large brown eyes filling with fresh tears as she stared at the train ticket.

“No,” I said firmly, kneeling down to her eye level. “Your mother didn’t want to leave you, Bella. She bought this ticket to lead Arthur away from you. She’s trying to protect you.”

I grabbed my coat and wrapped Isabella in a heavy blanket. We slipped out the back service door of the mansion, avoiding the remaining corrupted security guards.

I found the keys to the groundskeeper’s old truck hanging on a peg. I threw Isabella into the passenger seat, cranked the engine, and tore down the gravel driveway into the rainy Chicago night.

I had to get to the 5th Street Station before midnight.

As I drove, I kept dialing Luca’s number. Finally, on the seventh try, he answered.

“Emily? Are you safe in the room?” His voice was breathless, backed by the sound of sirens.

“Luca, the shipyard is a trap! Arthur isn’t there! He’s at the 5th Street Station!”

I heard tires screech loudly on Luca’s end. “How do you know that?”

“Vanessa was in the panic room. She tried to take Isabella.”

“Is she hurt? Is Isabella hurt?!”

“No, we’re okay. We locked Vanessa inside. Luca, Elena was trying to take a train to Canada tonight. Arthur found out. He’s taking her to the station to intercept her escape.”

“I’m ten minutes away,” Luca said, his voice a lethal growl. “Emily, do not go into that station. Wait for me.”

He hung up.

I looked at the dashboard clock. 11:15 PM.

We pulled up to the abandoned rear entrance of the 5th Street Station. It was dark, the rain pouring in sheets.

“Stay in the truck, Bella,” I ordered, locking the doors and cracking the window. “Hide on the floorboards.”

I pulled Vanessa’s pearl-handled revolver from my apron. It felt heavy and alien in my hand.

I crept through the rusted service doors into the main terminal. The cavernous hall echoed with the sound of rain drumming against the glass roof.

At the far end of the platform, near the tracks, stood Arthur Bellini.

He was holding an umbrella. Two large men stood beside him.

And on her knees, bound by zip ties, was an older woman.

Teresa.

But Elena wasn’t there.

“Where is my daughter-in-law, Arthur?” Teresa spat, her head held high despite the rain.

“She’ll be here,” Arthur checked his watch. “She needs her train ticket. And I have it.”

I crept behind a row of concrete pillars, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Suddenly, a frail figure stepped out from the shadows near the ticket booth.

She wore a long, soaked trench coat. Her dark hair clung to her pale, hollow cheeks.

It was Elena.

She looked terrifyingly fragile, a ghost of the vibrant woman I had seen in photographs.

“Let Teresa go, Arthur,” Elena’s voice was raspy, weak. “I’m right here.”

Arthur smiled. “Elena. You look terrible, my dear.”

“I gave you what you wanted,” Elena coughed, leaning against the wall for support. “I signed the company shares over to you. Now let her go.”

“I can’t do that,” Arthur sighed. “You see, Marco opened his mouth. The deal has changed. Luca has to sign the final merger, and he won’t do that unless I hold onto the old woman.”

Arthur pulled out his gun and aimed it at Teresa’s head.

“Sign the rest of the documents, Elena. Or Teresa dies right now.”

Elena collapsed to her knees, sobbing. “I don’t have them!”

Arthur pulled the hammer back. “Shame.”

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I stepped out from behind the pillar, raised the pearl-handled revolver, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed like thunder in the empty station.

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