Chapter 5 – THE GRANDFATHER AND THE GUN

The shipping docks at Pier 4 were deserted, shrouded in a heavy, freezing fog rolling off Lake Michigan.

Luca parked the Mustang behind a rusted shipping container. He turned the headlights off, plunging us into darkness.

“Stay in the car with Mom,” Luca ordered, checking his spare magazines.

“He said to bring me,” I argued, my hands shaking around the heavy revolver. “If I don’t walk out there, he’ll kill her.”

“He’s baiting a trap,” Luca said. “You stay.”

Before I could argue, a brilliant spotlight snapped on from a crane high above the pier, blinding us.

A voice echoed through a megaphone, cutting through the fog.

“I know you’re there, Luca. Send the girl out. You have one minute.”

It was the voice of a ghost. Giovanni Moretti.

Teresa grabbed my arm. “Don’t go, Hannah. He has no soul.”

But I looked at the photograph of my mother on my phone. She was all I had.

I opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing fog.

“Hannah, stop!” Luca hissed.

But I kept walking into the blinding light.

I held my hands up, the heavy revolver dangling awkwardly from my fingers. I walked past the shipping containers until I reached the edge of the pier.

Standing at the end of the dock, surrounded by six heavily armed men, was Giovanni Moretti.

He was leaning on a silver-handled cane, wearing a black overcoat. Next to him, tied to a wooden chair, was my mother. She was unconscious, an IV bag dripping clear liquid into her arm.

“Mom!” I screamed, running forward.

Two guards immediately raised their rifles, stopping me in my tracks.

Giovanni smiled. A cold, reptilian smile.

“Look at you,” Giovanni said, his voice raspy. “The bastard child of my defective daughter. You have Teresa’s eyes. It’s a shame you grew up scrubbing my floors.”

“Let her go,” I begged, crying. “She doesn’t know anything about your money. Just let us go back to our lives.”

“I can’t do that, little bird,” Giovanni said, stepping closer. “Your mother’s signature is the only thing standing between me and two billion dollars in the Swiss accounts. I need her awake to sign. And I need you here to ensure she doesn’t refuse.”

“You’re a monster,” I spat.

“I’m a businessman,” Giovanni corrected. He reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of documents. “Wake her up.”

One of the guards slapped my mother hard across the face.

She gasped, her eyes flying open. She looked around in sheer terror before her eyes landed on me.

“Hannah?” she cried. “What’s happening?”

“Sign the papers, Isabella,” Giovanni commanded, dropping the documents on her lap.

My mother stared at him. “Who are you?”

“Sign them!” Giovanni roared, raising his cane to strike her.

BANG.

The gunshot echoed across the water.

The guard standing next to Giovanni dropped dead.

Giovanni spun around in shock.

Standing on top of the shipping container thirty yards away was Luca. He held a sniper rifle he must have pulled from the trunk.

“Step away from my sister, old man,” Luca’s voice echoed across the pier.

Chaos erupted. Giovanni’s men opened fire on the shipping container.

I didn’t think. I just reacted. I raised the heavy revolver Luca had given me and pulled the trigger.

I hit the guard closest to my mother in the leg. He screamed, dropping his weapon.

I dove forward, tackling my mother’s chair to the ground just as bullets ripped through the space where her head had been.

“Hannah!” she screamed.

“Stay down!” I yelled, ripping the zip-ties off her wrists with my bare hands.

Giovanni was screaming orders, taking cover behind a steel drum.

Suddenly, the roar of engines drowned out the gunfire.

Three black SUVs tore onto the pier, headlights blazing.

But they weren’t Luca’s men.

The doors flew open, and Vanessa stepped out, holding a gun. And right beside her was Michael.

They hadn’t come to help us. They had followed us to finish the job.

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