Chapter 3 – THE ROSARY

My hands shook violently as I stared at the Polaroid.

Vanessa’s face in the background was out of focus, but there was no mistaking her striking profile or the red coat she wore.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered, holding Leo tighter against my chest. “I grew up in the suburbs. My dad was an accountant. We had nothing to do with the mafia. Why would the fiancée of a boss be stalking a teenager?”

“Your father,” Luca asked, his voice suddenly very sharp. “What was his name?”

“Arthur Collins.”

Luca’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened. “Get your mother. Grab a bag. You’re not staying here.”

“Where are we going?”

“My penthouse downtown. It’s secure. No one knows the code except me.”

Twenty minutes later, my mother, Leo, and I were sitting in the back of Luca’s armored SUV. Bruno was resting his head on Leo’s lap. My six-year-old was gently stroking the old dog’s ears, both of them seeking comfort in each other.

Luca made a phone call from the front seat.

“Daniel. Lock down the mansion. Don’t let Vanessa leave. But act normal. I want her to think her plan is working.”

He hung up and looked at me through the rearview mirror.

“Emma, you said your father was an accountant.”

“Yes. He died in a car accident eight years ago.”

Luca merged onto the highway. “Arthur Collins didn’t just do taxes, Emma. He worked for my father. He was the bookkeeper for the Moretti family’s most sensitive accounts.”

The breath left my lungs. “No. That’s impossible. He was a quiet man. He loved gardening.”

“He was also the man accused of stealing four million dollars from our syndicate right before he died,” Luca stated calmly.

My mother let out a strangled gasp. “Emma…”

I turned to her. She was pale, clutching her bruised arm.

“Mom? Did you know?”

She looked down at her lap. “He told me he made a mistake, Emma. He said he was being framed. He gave me something to hide, but then he died… and I was so terrified, I never told you.”

“What did he give you?” Luca asked, his voice echoing in the quiet car.

My mother reached into her pocket with a trembling hand.

She pulled out a wooden rosary.

It wasn’t an ordinary rosary. The beads were carved black onyx, and the crucifix was solid silver, engraved with a crest.

Luca pulled the SUV onto the shoulder of the highway and put it in park. He turned around, his eyes fixed on the beads.

“Let me see that,” he commanded gently.

My mother handed it to him.

Luca turned the cross over in his large hands. “This is a Bellini family crest. Vanessa’s family.”

“My husband said the real thief dropped it in his office,” my mother cried. “He was trying to prove the Bellinis were stealing from the Morettis and blaming him. But before he could take it to Luca’s father, his brakes failed on the highway.”

It wasn’t an accident.

My father was murdered.

And Vanessa had been watching me ever since to make sure I never found out.

I felt sick.

“But why now?” I asked, looking at Luca. “Why go after my apartment tonight? Why frame the dog?”

Luca stared at the rosary, a dark realization washing over his face.

“Because tomorrow is the wedding,” Luca said. “And when a mafia boss gets married, he merges his accounts with his wife’s family. Tomorrow, Vanessa gets total access to my syndicate’s finances. Your father’s missing four million was just a down payment. She’s planning to bankrupt my entire family.”

He looked at me, his gaze fierce.

“And she needed the only witness to her old crimes—you—locked up for stealing from my safe. That’s what she planted.”

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

An unknown number.

I answered it.

“Hello, Emma,” Vanessa’s sweet, melodic voice echoed through the speaker. “I see you made it home. Tell me, did you find the little present I left in your son’s bedroom?”

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