Chapter 4 – The Watch on the Concrete

The heavy silver pocket watch gleamed darkly in Luca’s bloody palm.

The initials M.V. were engraved on the lid.

Marcus Vance.

Luca’s head of security. The man who had driven us to the station. The man currently standing at the top of the ramp, supposedly guarding our exit.

Luca stared at the watch. The reality of the betrayal hit him with the physical force of a bullet.

Julian hadn’t just stolen money. He had bought the loyalty of the men sworn to protect the Moretti family.

Answer one.

It explained how Isabella had been tracked so easily. It explained how Julian had managed to threaten her inside the heavily guarded mansion eighteen months ago. Marcus had let him in. Marcus had turned a blind eye.

“Hannah,” Luca whispered, his voice dangerously flat.

“Yes,” I breathed, keeping my hands pressed hard against Isabella’s side. The blood was soaking through my wool scarf.

“Keep the pressure on. Do not let her go to sleep.”

Luca stood up. He didn’t wipe the blood from his hands.

He drew a sleek, black handgun from his shoulder holster.

“Luca, no,” Isabella groaned from the concrete, reaching a weak hand toward him. “If Marcus knows… he’ll kill you.”

“Marcus is a dead man,” Luca said softly.

He turned his back to us and walked out of the service tunnel, disappearing into the chaotic lights of the train platform.

I was left alone in the cold, damp dark with a bleeding woman I barely knew, but whose son I loved like a little brother.

“Mrs. Moretti, look at me,” I said, my voice shaking as I pushed harder against her wound. “You have to stay awake. Daniel is waiting for you. He made me promise to bring you back.”

Isabella offered a weak, pain-filled smile.

“You’re Hannah,” she whispered.

I nodded, tears blurring my vision. “Yes.”

“Daniel told me about you. When I met him today… he said you were the only one who didn’t look at him with pity.”

“He’s a brave boy,” I said. “He gets it from his mom.”

Isabella closed her eyes, her breathing growing ragged. “Marcus found me near the ticketing booth. He told me Luca sent him to finish the job. I fought him. I got away, but… he was right behind me.”

My blood ran cold.

If Marcus was right behind her… why hadn’t he finished the job when we ran down the ramp?

Because Luca was with me.

Suddenly, the crack of a gunshot echoed through the cavernous train station.

Screams erupted from the upper level.

Then, a second shot.

I ducked instinctively, hovering my body over Isabella to protect her.

Silence stretched for an agonizing thirty seconds.

Then, heavy footsteps echoed down the ramp.

I grabbed the heavy metal flashlight that had fallen from Isabella’s bag, raising it like a weapon.

A figure emerged from the shadows.

It was Luca.

He was breathing heavily, his gun lowered, but his eyes were entirely black with rage.

Behind him were two paramedics, rushing forward with a stretcher.

“Move, let us in!” one paramedic yelled, dropping beside Isabella and immediately applying a trauma dressing.

I scrambled backward, giving them space.

Luca knelt beside me. He didn’t look at the paramedics. He just stared at his wife’s pale face.

“Marcus?” I whispered, terrified to hear the answer.

“He tried to run,” Luca said, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. “He didn’t make it.”

The paramedics hoisted Isabella onto the stretcher. She was unconscious, but the lead medic nodded to Luca.

“She’s stable for now, Mr. Moretti. But she’s lost a lot of blood. We need to move.”

“Take her to St. Jude’s,” Luca commanded. “My private wing. If anyone who doesn’t work for me tries to enter that room, shoot them.”

The medics rushed up the ramp.

Luca and I followed close behind.

The station above was in absolute chaos. Commuters were screaming, police sirens were wailing in the distance, and Marcus Vance lay motionless near the main exit, surrounded by Luca’s remaining loyal guards.

We burst through the glass doors and piled back into the SUV.

As we sped toward the hospital, Luca stared out the window at the rain.

“Julian bought my security,” Luca muttered. “If Marcus was on his payroll, who else is? Half my men could be waiting to put a bullet in my back.”

“You have to trust someone,” I said quietly.

“In my world, Hannah, trust is how you end up bleeding on a concrete floor.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Thomas,” Luca snapped when the line connected. “Get to the basement. Julian Rossi is down there. I want him awake and talking when I get back.”

There was a pause.

Luca frowned.

“Thomas? Answer me.”

I watched Luca’s face change. The anger morphed into a sudden, sharp panic.

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Luca roared into the phone.

He listened for another ten seconds, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the phone.

He hung up, slamming his fist against the dashboard so hard the plastic cracked.

“Julian escaped,” Luca breathed.

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.

“How?”

“Marcus wasn’t the only one on the payroll,” Luca said bitterly. “Two of the basement guards turned on the others. They broke Julian out ten minutes ago.”

Julian was loose. He knew Luca knew everything. The element of surprise was completely gone.

“Where would he go?” I asked.

“He’s going to run,” Luca said. “But Julian isn’t stupid. He knows I’ll freeze the offshore accounts by morning. He needs liquid cash to disappear.”

Answer one, open two.

Julian needed cash. But the family’s wealth was tied up in properties and investments.

Then, I remembered something Vanessa had said in the dining room.

“Julian said he’d frame me for the embezzlement…”

“Mr. Moretti,” I said, leaning forward. “Vanessa said Julian had been embezzling money for five years. Millions of dollars.”

Luca looked at me. “Yes. But he couldn’t keep it in the family banks. He would have had to hide it somewhere physical.”

I thought about the massive, sprawling Moretti estate. The dozens of unused rooms. The locked doors I wasn’t allowed to clean.

“The old safe house,” Luca realized, his eyes widening. “The one my father built under the marina.”

He grabbed his phone to call his remaining men.

But before he could dial, my own cell phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was a restricted number.

I answered it tentatively. “Hello?”

A woman’s voice whispered through the receiver.

It was Vanessa.

She sounded terrified, crying hysterically over the sound of a revving car engine.

“Hannah, please, you have to tell Luca!” Vanessa sobbed.

“Vanessa? Where are you?”

“Julian found me,” she choked out. “He caught me packing my car. He didn’t run, Hannah. He’s not going to the marina.”

I pressed the phone harder to my ear. “Where is he going?”

Vanessa’s voice broke into a terrified scream.

“He’s going back upstairs! He’s going for Daniel!”

TITLE: The Boy in the Locked Room

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