Chapter 4 – THE ROSARY BEADS
My hands violently shook as I stared at the screen.
The photo of my mother was timestamped two minutes ago. Someone was in our apartment.
The armored SUV tore through the dark Chicago streets, the engine roaring. Luca was in the front seat, a gun resting on his thigh. Vanessa was beside him, her hands zip-tied, her face pale.
Sofia squeezed my hand in the back seat. “Emily? You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to show Luca the phone. But if I told him, the person in my mother’s bedroom might pull the trigger before Luca could send anyone to help.
“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice cracking. I shoved the phone deep into my pocket.
Vanessa caught my eye in the rearview mirror. A slow, knowing smirk touched her lips. She knew. She had planned for this, too.
“You’re awfully quiet, Emily,” Vanessa purred from the front seat. “Thinking about your family?”
Luca glanced at her, then back at the road. “Speak another word to her, Vanessa, and I’ll throw you out of this car while it’s moving.”
“She’s the one who’s lying to you now, Luca,” Vanessa mocked.
“Emily doesn’t lie,” Sofia defended me fiercely. “She risked her job tonight to save my dignity. You are a monster.”
“A monster?” Vanessa laughed bitterly. “Your brother destroyed my father’s life. I’m just balancing the scales.”
We swerved hard, taking the highway exit toward Midway.
My phone buzzed again.
One minute to fix this, Emily. Tell him the tag said O’Hare. Say you were confused.
Tears welled in my eyes. I loved my mother more than anything. I worked double shifts, scrubbed floors, and swallowed my pride every day just to keep her safe.
But I looked at Sofia. Her hands were clutching a small, worn wooden rosary. She was praying silently, her face stained with tears, desperate to see her four-year-old daughter and six-year-old son again.
I couldn’t sacrifice two innocent children.
I took a breath. “Mr. Moretti.”
Luca looked back.
“Someone is in my apartment,” I blurted out, a sob finally escaping my throat. “They sent a picture of my mother. They’re threatening to hurt her if I don’t lie to you and say the plane is at O’Hare.”
Vanessa screamed in rage. “You idiot!”
Luca slammed the brakes, the heavy SUV screeching to a halt on the shoulder of the empty highway.
He didn’t panic. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Vince,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Emily’s apartment. 4th floor, unit 4B. Someone is inside. You have two minutes to neutralize them. Call me when it’s done.”
He hung up and looked at me. “No one hurts the people under my protection, Emily. Understand?”
I nodded, burying my face in my hands.
“Drive,” Luca commanded his driver.
We rocketed forward again.
Vanessa slumped in her seat, realizing she had lost her ultimate leverage. But then she started laughing. A low, dark, breathless laugh.
“It doesn’t matter,” Vanessa said. “You’re too late anyway.”
“The plane hasn’t taken off,” Luca said.
“No,” Vanessa smiled, turning her head to look at Sofia. “But they aren’t on the plane.”
Sofia stopped praying. The rosary fell from her hands. “What?”
“Did you really think I’d put two screaming kids on a private jet where the pilot might ask questions?” Vanessa sneered. “The plane is just moving my brother’s money. The kids are going by boat.”
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