Chapter 10 – [THE GHOST OF NAPLES]

Luca stared at the tie clip. “What does it mean, Emily? The red door… that was the orphanage David was sent to in Naples.”

I picked up the cold silver clip. My hands were shaking.

“My mother didn’t know about the orphanage,” I said. “Only the Bellinis knew. And Elena.”

“Elena is in solitary confinement,” Luca said, moving quickly to lock the front door of the bakery. He flipped the open sign to closed. “And Vanessa’s father died of a heart attack six months ago. Who is this man?”

David burst through the kitchen doors. “Why did you lock the—”

He stopped when he saw the tie clip in my hand.

All the color drained from David’s face.

“Where did you get that?” David choked out.

“A man dropped it off with Luca,” I said. “David, do you know who it is?”

David backed up against the kitchen door, his breathing erratic.

“The orphanage in Naples,” David whispered. “It wasn’t just a place to hide unwanted children, Emily. It was a training ground.”

Luca stepped forward. “A training ground for what?”

“The Camorra,” David said, tears welling in his eyes. “The Naples mafia. They took the orphans and trained them to be soldiers. Enforcers. I was there until I was six, before they shipped me to the US foster system.”

“But why would they want you?” I asked.

“They didn’t want me,” David cried. “They wanted what Vanessa’s father gave the orphanage to keep me quiet!”

David ran his hands through his hair, pacing the small bakery.

“When Bellini dropped me off, he didn’t just pay them in cash. He gave the headmaster a bearer bond. Worth ten million dollars.”

Luca’s jaw dropped. “A bearer bond? Whoever holds the paper owns the money.”

“Exactly,” David said. “But the headmaster died a week later. The bond went missing. The Camorra has been looking for it for twenty-five years.”

“And they think you have it?” I asked, terrified.

“I don’t have it!” David yelled. “I was a child! I left with nothing but the clothes on my back… and…”

David stopped.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

We both realized it at the exact same time.

“The rosary,” we whispered in unison.

“What rosary?” Luca demanded.

“Our foster mother gave David a heavy silver rosary when he arrived in America,” I explained rapidly. “She said it was in his pocket when he got off the plane.”

“I haven’t worn it in two years,” David said, panic setting in. “Not since the night at your father’s mansion, Luca.”

Luca pulled his phone from his pocket. “Where is it now?”

“It’s in a lockbox under my bed at the house,” David said.

Suddenly, the bakery window shattered.

A brick wrapped in a piece of paper landed on the floor near the espresso machine.

Luca shoved me down behind the counter, drawing a weapon he had hidden in the small of his back. “Stay down!”

He waited, but no gunfire followed.

Just the sound of tires screeching as a car sped away down the street.

Luca cautiously stood up and walked over to the brick.

He untied the note and read it.

His face turned to stone.

“What does it say?” I asked, trembling as David helped me up.

Luca looked at David.

“It says: We have the house. We want the rosary. You have one hour, or the bakery burns.”

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