Chapter 10 – [THE CRACKED GLASS]

I turned the gold pocket watch over in my palm. The metal was cold, despite the morning sun.

Vendetta.

Vengeance.

“Claire?” My mother called from the patio table. “What did you find?”

I slipped the watch into the pocket of my cardigan before turning around. “Just an old coin, Mom. Nothing important.”

I didn’t want to ruin the peace we had just fought so hard to build. But my heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I knew whose watch this was. I had seen it in old photographs tucked inside Rosa’s leather albums.

It belonged to Vanessa’s father. Don Bellini.

The FBI had raided his compound in Chicago, but the news reports said he had evaded capture. They assumed he had fled to South America.

But this watch… this was a message. He was here. In Italy.

I walked back inside the villa, my mind racing. I needed to find Dante.

I hurried through the rustic kitchen, past the flour-dusted counters where Leo had been playing, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors leading to the wine cellar. Dante spent his mornings down here, cataloging Vincenzo’s old vintages.

“Dante?” I called out, the cool, damp air of the cellar raising goosebumps on my arms.

The cellar was dark, lit only by the dim yellow bulbs hanging from the stone arches.

“Dante, are you down here?”

No answer.

I walked deeper into the aisles of dusty glass bottles. At the very back of the cellar, near the heavy oak door that led to Vincenzo’s hidden gold reserves, I saw a shadow move.

“Dante, I found something on the terrace—”

I stopped.

The man standing by the vault door wasn’t Dante.

He was older, leaning heavily on a silver-tipped cane. His face was weathered, his eyes cold and dead.

Don Bellini.

“Hello, Claire,” the old mob boss rasped, his voice echoing in the stone chamber. “You have a lovely home.”

I backed away, reaching blindly behind me for a weapon—a wine bottle, anything.

“Where is Dante?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

Bellini chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “The prodigal brother? He’s taking a nap in the vineyard. Don’t worry, he’s breathing. For now.”

He stepped forward, tapping his cane against the stone floor.

“You dismantled my life’s work, little girl,” Bellini said, his eyes locking onto mine. “You put my daughter in a cage. You ruined my legacy.”

“You ruined it yourself,” I shot back. “You were an FBI informant. Your own people would have killed you.”

“Survival requires difficult choices,” Bellini said smoothly. “But now, I have no money. No power. I am a ghost. And I need a retirement fund.”

He pointed his cane at the heavy vault door.

“Open it, Claire.”

I swallowed hard. “Only I have the biometric key. And I’d rather die than give you a single coin of Vincenzo’s gold.”

Bellini smiled. It was a terrifying, hollow expression.

“I figured you’d say that,” he whispered.

He reached into his tailored jacket and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. He tossed it to me.

I caught it, my hands shaking.

“Open it,” he commanded.

I popped the lid. Inside, resting on the velvet, was a lock of dark hair and a small, silver airplane toy.

Leo’s favorite toy.

“You left him on the terrace for two minutes, Claire,” Bellini whispered. “My men are very fast.”

TITLE: THE PRICE OF GOLD

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