Chapter 7 – THE FLIGHT TICKET

Chaos erupted in the front pews.

Vanessa’s father, a hulking man in a gray suit, stood up abruptly. “What is the meaning of this, Luca? Who is this woman interrupting my daughter’s wedding?”

“Sit down, Carlo,” Luca commanded, the authority in his voice slamming over the crowd like a physical weight.

Carlo hesitated, looking around at the heavily armed Moretti guards who suddenly stepped out from the side aisles. He sat.

Vanessa was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. She stared at me, then at Luca, trying to calculate how much we knew.

“Luca, this is insane,” she laughed nervously, trying to grab his hand. “She’s a maid. She’s obsessed with you. Have security remove her.”

Luca didn’t flinch. He reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper.

“Daniel,” Luca called out.

Daniel stepped forward and handed a matching piece of paper to Carlo Bellini in the front row.

“What is this?” Carlo demanded, opening it.

“That,” Luca said, projecting his voice, “is a confession from the man you sent to wire C-4 explosives to the front door of Emma’s apartment last night.”

The cathedral erupted in whispers.

“Lies!” Vanessa shrieked, dropping her sweet voice entirely. “He’s making it up! She manipulated him!”

“Is that right?” Luca asked calmly. He turned to me. “Emma, tell them.”

I took a deep breath, looking out at the sea of dangerous men. “Ten years ago, my father, Arthur Collins, was the accountant for the Moretti family. He uncovered a massive embezzlement ring stealing from your syndicate.”

I pointed directly at Vanessa.

“He found out she was funneling money into offshore accounts. Before he could bring the evidence to the Boss, Vanessa had his brakes cut. He died on the highway.”

Carlo Bellini turned red. “You take the word of a dead accountant’s daughter over your own fiancée?”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “I take the word of my own blood.”

He reached into his pocket again.

This time, he pulled out the wooden rosary with the Bellini crest.

Carlo’s face drained of color.

“Arthur Collins found this in his office the day he realized he was being framed,” Luca stated. “He hid it before he was murdered.”

Vanessa was trembling now. “You can’t prove that was mine! Half my family has one of those!”

“You’re right,” Luca agreed smoothly. “Which is why I brought something else.”

He pulled out a small velvet pouch and poured the contents into his open palm.

The emerald charm bracelet glittered under the cathedral lights.

A collective gasp echoed from the older men in the room. They recognized it immediately.

“My mother’s bracelet,” Luca said, his voice trembling with a barely contained rage. “Taken off her wrist the night she was tortured and murdered by the Bellini family thirty years ago.”

Vanessa took another step back, hitting the altar rail. “I didn’t… I wasn’t even alive then!”

“No,” Luca said softly. “But you kept it as a family trophy. And you hid it inside the bed of my mother’s dog, waiting to wear it after we were married.”

He stepped closer to her, his height dominating her entirely.

“You didn’t just steal from me, Vanessa. You mocked my dead mother in my own home.”

Vanessa’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. The polished princess was gone, replaced by a cornered rat.

“You think you’re so smart, Luca?” she spat, reaching into the bodice of her wedding dress.

In a flash, she pulled out a small, silver derringer pistol and pointed it directly at my chest.

“Nobody moves!” she screamed.

The guards raised their weapons, but Luca threw his hand up. “Hold!”

“You ruined everything!” Vanessa yelled, tears of rage ruining her makeup. She glared at me. “I should have killed you when you were a teenager, Emma. I watched you for years, making sure you didn’t know anything. I gave you that miserable job to keep you under my boot!”

“Put the gun down, Vanessa,” Luca said, stepping smoothly between me and the barrel.

“No!” She pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeve with her free hand and threw it at me. It fluttered to the ground.

It was a first-class flight ticket to Argentina.

“I had my exit planned in case you ever found out,” she hissed. “But I’m not leaving alone. I’m taking the girl. If anyone follows me, I blow her heart out.”

She grabbed my arm, yanking me forward, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against my ribs.

My heart pounded furiously, but as I looked into Luca’s eyes, I saw something that gave me strength.

He gave me the slightest, imperceptible nod.

I didn’t freeze.

I stomped my heel down as hard as I could directly onto Vanessa’s toes, wrapped in thin white satin.

Share