Chapter 3 – THE TICKET TO THE PAST

I stared at the back of the child’s drawing, my hands trembling.

Don’t trust Daniel.

The handwriting belonged to Luca. He had known. Somehow, before this dinner even began, Luca knew his brother-in-law was hiding something.

I grabbed the heavy gold fountain pen, shoved the drawing into my apron pocket, and sprinted back down the hallway.

When I burst through the dining room doors, the situation had escalated. Luca’s bodyguards had their hands on their holstered weapons, surrounding the room. The wealthy guests were huddled in the corners, terrified.

Vanessa was tapping her manicured fingernail against the legal contract on the table.

Gianna was still on the floor, holding her husband. Daniel was weeping, apologizing over and over for losing their son.

I walked up to Luca, my heart hammering in my ears, and handed him the pen. As I did, I purposefully brushed my hand against his sleeve, pressing my thumb hard into his forearm. It was a silent warning.

Luca didn’t look at me, but his jaw tightened. He understood.

“Sign it, Luca,” Vanessa ordered. “Marco is waiting for the confirmation call.”

Luca uncapped the pen. He looked at Daniel, who was kneeling on the floor, bleeding and pathetic.

“Daniel,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You said Vanessa’s men took Leo from you outside the school?”

Daniel nodded frantically. “Yes! Two men in a black SUV. They jumped me. They had guns, Luca.”

“What time?”

Daniel hesitated. “Three… three o’clock.”

Luca leaned down, placing both hands flat on the table, staring directly into Daniel’s eyes.

“That’s fascinating, Daniel. Because my men have been watching you for a month. And at three o’clock today, you weren’t at Leo’s school.”

Vanessa’s smirk vanished.

Gianna stopped crying. She looked down at her husband. “Daniel? What is he talking about?”

Luca didn’t break eye contact with the bleeding man. “You were at the central train station, Daniel. Putting something very valuable into a storage locker. Weren’t you?”

Answer one: Daniel wasn’t violently ambushed at the school. He had lied about the kidnapping.

Open two: What did Daniel put in the locker? And where was Leo actually hiding?

Daniel’s face went chalk white. He tried to scramble backward, but Luca’s bodyguards grabbed his shoulders, pinning him to the marble floor.

“I… I had to!” Daniel screamed, the truth finally breaking him. “She said she’d kill him! Vanessa said if I didn’t hide the heirloom at the station and bring her the claim ticket, Leo would die!”

Gianna shoved Daniel away in absolute disgust. “You traded our son for an object?!”

“It’s not just an object!” Vanessa yelled, losing her composure. She pointed at Luca. “It’s the proof! It’s the ledger your father kept! The one that proves Marco ordered the hit on your mother, not my father!”

The entire room went dead silent.

Another brutal reversal. Vanessa’s father didn’t kill Luca’s mother. Uncle Marco did. Marco had framed Vanessa’s father, used the debt to enslave her, and manipulated her anger for twenty years to finally steal the empire from Luca.

“You idiot,” Luca whispered, staring at Vanessa with a mixture of pity and rage. “Marco didn’t fund you to help you get revenge. He used you to find the ledger so he could destroy the evidence of his own crime.”

Vanessa froze. The realization hit her like a physical blow. The man she had conspired with was the very man who ruined her life.

“The ticket,” Luca demanded, stepping toward Daniel. “Where is the locker ticket?”

“She has it!” Daniel cried, pointing at Vanessa. “I gave it to her right before I came in here!”

Vanessa instinctively clutched her beaded purse.

She took a step back, pulling a small silver handgun from her thigh holster beneath her red dress. The guests screamed.

“Nobody moves!” Vanessa shrieked, her hand shaking wildly. “Marco has the boy! If I don’t bring him this ticket, he’ll kill Leo and he’ll kill me!”

I was standing right behind Vanessa. She had forgotten I was there. I was just the maid.

I saw the clasp of her purse was slightly open. I saw the edge of a yellow paper ticket sticking out.

I didn’t think about my safety. I thought about Gianna’s burned hands. I thought about six-year-old Leo waiting for his asthma medicine.

I lunged forward.

I grabbed the yellow ticket from her purse and yanked it free.

Vanessa screamed and spun around, aiming the gun directly at my chest.

“Give it back, you little bitch!” she roared.

Before she could pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out, deafening in the enclosed room.

Blood splattered across the white tablecloth.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain.

But it never came.

I opened my eyes. Luca Moretti was standing in front of me, his arm bleeding heavily. He had stepped in front of the bullet to save his maid.

And on the floor, holding her smoking gun, Vanessa was staring in horror at the mansion’s front doors.

Standing there, flanked by heavily armed men, was Uncle Marco.

And he was holding little Leo by the collar of his shirt.

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