Chapter 4 – THE MAN IN THE GRAY OVERCOAT

Before Mark could pull his hand out of his coat, Vincent moved.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t hesitate. He launched himself across the Persian rug and slammed into Mark’s chest.

The two men crashed into the antique credenza, shattering a Ming vase. A heavy, black pistol clattered onto the hardwood floor, sliding to a stop inches from my sensible nursing shoes.

Screams erupted. Guests scattered like frightened birds, diving behind sofas and the heavy oak dining table.

“Take the boy!” Vincent yelled, grappling with Mark against the wall.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I scooped Leo up into my arms. He was heavy for a seven-year-old, but adrenaline made him feel weightless. I ran to Helen’s wheelchair, unlocked the brake with my foot, and pushed her rapidly toward the hallway leading to the secure study.

“Keep moving, Nora!” Helen ordered, her voice surprisingly steady. She was a woman who had survived fifty years married to a mob boss; a fistfight in her living room was practically nostalgia.

I pushed her into the heavy-paneled study and slammed the door shut, locking it. I set Leo down on the leather sofa. He was wide-eyed, clutching his knees, but he wasn’t crying. He had the same terrifyingly calm demeanor as his uncle.

“Are they going to hurt my mom?” Leo asked quietly.

I knelt in front of him, smoothing his hair. “Your uncle is taking care of it. You’re safe here.”

Outside the heavy oak door, I heard the sickening thud of fists against bone, followed by a sharp crack. Then, silence.

Helen wheeled herself over to her husband’s old mahogany desk. She reached underneath it and pressed a small, hidden button. The bookshelves groaned and slid apart, revealing a heavy steel safe.

She turned to me. “Nora, open it. The code is my anniversary. 10-24-78.”

My hands were shaking, but I punched the numbers into the keypad. The heavy door clicked open. Inside were stacks of cash, velvet bags that looked like diamonds, and a stack of passports.

“Take the brown leather folder,” Helen instructed.

I pulled it out. It was heavy.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Insurance,” she said coldly. “Caroline thought she was so clever, playing the Morettis against us. But Mark isn’t a Moretti. He’s something much worse.”

Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated in my apron pocket.

It was my daughter, Maya. She was supposed to be studying at her dorm across town.

I answered it, keeping my voice low. “Maya, honey, I can’t talk right now—”

“Mom?” Maya’s voice was trembling. It sounded like she was crying. “Mom, there’s someone in my room.”

My heart stopped beating. The world titled on its axis.

“What?” I gasped. “Maya, get out of there. Run.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed. “He’s sitting on my bed. Mom, he’s holding my nursing scrubs. He says he works for Caroline.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Caroline had threatened my job this morning. But she hadn’t just been planning to fire me. She had been securing leverage to make sure I kept my mouth shut about Helen’s luggage.

“Let me speak to him,” I said, my voice dropping into a deadly, hollow tone I didn’t know I possessed.

There was a rustle of the phone being handed over.

A man’s voice came on the line. It was smooth and terribly polite.

“Nora. I hear you’ve been causing problems for my sister today.”

I looked at the locked door of the study.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“My name is Thomas,” the voice said. “Caroline’s older brother. She told me you might try to interfere with the old lady’s departure tonight. So I thought I’d pay your lovely daughter a visit to ensure your absolute cooperation.”

He paused.

“Is Helen in the car yet, Nora?”

TITLE: A MOTHER’S PRICE

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