Chapter 3 - SKELETONS IN THE SAFE HOUSE"Six years of lies unravel in a bullet-riddled mansion above the fog.""Hold on to my neck and don't let go, no matter what you hear," I ordered Lila as I hoisted her securely onto my left hip.
I grabbed Elena by the arm with my free hand, hauling her to her feet. "When the emergency doors open, we don't go through the terminal. We go out the inflatable slide straight onto the tarmac."
"Luca, they have machine guns out there!" Elena panicked, her fingernails digging into my forearm. "We're going to get slaughtered!"
"Not while I'm breathing," I snapped, kicking open the emergency door latch.
The emergency slide deployed with a violent hiss, inflating into the rainy night. Down on the tarmac, the dark figures beside the black SUVs raised their weapons.
RAT-AT-TAT-TAT!
Muzzle flashes strobed through the torrential rain, stitching a line of heavy-caliber holes along the plane's aluminum hull.
"Jump!" I barked, shoving Elena onto the slick vinyl slide before diving right behind her, keeping Lila pinned beneath my chest to shield her from the incoming lead.
We hit the wet tarmac at high speed, tumbling into the rain. Bullets pinged against the pavement around us, throwing up tiny geysers of spark and water.
I didn't wait. I fired three precise rounds from my captured suppressed pistol, dropping the lead shooter who was advancing on our flank. Grabbed Elena by the belt of her coat, dragged her behind a heavy baggage-handling tractor, and hotwired the ignition with a pocket tool I kept in my jacket.
The engine roared to life. I shoved Elena and Lila into the low metal trailer bay, slammed the throttle forward, and smashed straight through the perimeter gate of the airport, driving off the runway and disappearing into the dense, fog-covered highways of Northern California.
An hour later, we were standing inside an isolated, concrete-reinforced safe house hidden deep in the redwoods of Marin County—a fortress I had built years ago for an emergency that I had prayed would never come.
The heavy steel door locked with three loud, mechanical thuds.
Inside, the house was dark, smelling of pine, dust, and old leather. Lila was curled up on a leather sofa, wrapped in a warm wool blanket, clutching a hot mug of cocoa I had hastily made for her. She was exhausted, her eyelids heavy, but her eyes never left me as I paced the floor, stripping off my wet jacket and cleaning the wound on my knuckles with rubbing alcohol.
Elena stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the misty forest, her hands trembling around a glass of neat bourbon.
"You need to tell me everything," I said, my voice cold, calm, and deadly. "Every single word Julian told you six years ago."
Elena took a shaky sip of the liquor. "He came to my apartment while you were in Miami negotiating the harbor docks. He brought a file. It contained photos of me leaving the OB-GYN clinic... and a floor plan of the nursery I was secretly planning in Connecticut."
She looked up, her eyes swimming with painful memories. "Julian told me that your uncle, Vincent, had found out about the pregnancy. He said Vincent was going to use the baby to force you into a trap and execute you both. He offered to help me fake my death and relocate to the West Coast under a new identity. He said it was the only way to keep you focused, alive, and victorious in the war."
I froze, the bottle of rubbing alcohol hovering over my bleeding hand.
"Julian told you... that I didn't know?"
"He said if you knew I was pregnant, you would abandon the syndicate, let down your guard, and get us all killed," Elena sobbed. "He swore he was protecting your legacy. Protecting you. I thought I was sacrificing my happiness so you could survive, Luca! I spent six years living in fear, watching over my shoulder, thinking every dark car on the street was Vincent’s men coming to finish the job!"
A dark, terrifying laughter burst from my chest. It was a hollow, manic sound that made even the trees outside seem to shudder.
"Vincent didn't know anything about you, Elena," I whispered, the bitter truth settling into my gut like molten lead. "Vincent was killed six years ago... by Julian. Julian didn't want an heir to the Moretti empire. If I had a child—a legitimate blood successor—the empire would pass to my child if I died. But without an heir, as Underboss, Julian was next in line for everything."
Elena’s face drained of all color. "Oh God... He didn't save us... He staged everything to keep us apart."
"He manipulated both of us," I said, walking over to the window, staring out into the dark fog. "He used your maternal instincts to make you run, and he used your disappearance to drive me into a blind, vengeful rage. He let me wipe out my rivals for him while he built his own network in the shadows."
"What do we do now?" Elena asked, her voice trembling. "He knows Lila is alive now. He saw us on that flight. He won't stop until we are all dead."
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I turned slowly to look at Elena, then at Lila, who had finally fallen asleep on the sofa, her little hand resting over the faded crayon drawing she had carried across the country.
"Julian spent six years playing god with my family," I said, my voice dropping to an icy, absolute whisper. "Now he gets to find out what happens when the Devil comes home to collect his debt."
