Chapter 3 - The Broken Lamb
Hook: She went to the mafia boss to demand answers. She didn't expect to find him bleeding out on his floor, holding his daughter's toy.
Amara didn't sleep that night. Every sound outside her apartment window sounded like a hitman’s footsteps. She knew she couldn't pay ten million dollars, and she knew that giving the ledger to the Falcone family would likely trigger a city-wide war that would end with her being eliminated as a witness.
She had only one choice. She had to find Marcello Vance.
Using the address listed on one of the legal transfer documents under "Vance Holdings," Amara drove her beat-up sedan through a blinding snowstorm to a secluded estate in the hills of northern New Jersey. The iron gates were open—disturbingly so. No guards were posted at the kiosk.
Amara parked her car, her headlights cutting through the swirling snow. She walked up the stone steps of the massive, dark mansion. The front door was slightly ajar.
"Hello?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Mr. Vance?"
Silence.
She stepped inside, her boots clicking against the hardwood floor. The air inside was freezing. The grand foyer was in total disarray—shattered vases, overturned furniture, and bullet casings littered the floor. A firefight had happened here.
Following a faint, rhythmic sound from the back of the house, Amara walked into a dimly lit study.
There, slumped against a leather armchair, was Marcello Vance. His coat was gone, his white shirt heavily stained with crimson blood pouring from a jagged wound in his side. In his right hand, he held a heavy-caliber pistol; in his left, he was tightly gripping the small stuffed lamb Amara had fixed for his daughter the night before.
"Marcello!" Amara gasped, rushing forward and dropping to her knees beside him.
His eyes cracked open, unfocused and glassy. "Amara..." he wheezed, coughing up blood. "They... they took her."
"Who took her? Lily?"
"Falcone..." Marcello groaned, his grip tightening on her hand. "It was an ambush. My own men... leaked the location. Enzo... Enzo betrayed me."
Amara’s head spun. Enzo? The loyal underboss who had bowed so low yesterday?
"Why?" Amara asked, quickly tearing off her scarf and pressing it firmly against Marcello’s bleeding wound. He hissed in pain but didn't pull away.
"The ledger..." Marcello whispered. "They want the ledger in the Aurelia safe. It contains the bank accounts for the entire syndicate's offshore funds. Over three hundred million dollars. Enzo cut a deal with the Falcones to split it. They took Lily to force me to give up the safe's combination... but I didn't give it to them."
He looked up at Amara, his gaze suddenly fierce despite his failing strength. "They don't know I already changed the legal ownership of the safe's contents to you. The bank vault protocols require your biometric authorization now. I didn't use you as a shield, Amara... I used you as a vault. I thought you would be safe because you were an outsider."
"They know about the ledger, Marcello! Leo Falcone came to the restaurant today. He gave me forty-eight hours!"
Marcello closed his eyes, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Then the clock is already ticking. If they find out you don't know how to access the offshore accounts, they will kill you. And they will kill my little girl."
Suddenly, the sound of car tires crunching on the snow outside echoed through the mansion. Heavy footsteps began ascending the front porch.
"They're back," Marcello hissed, pushing her away with the last of his strength. "Take the gun. Go through the servant's tunnel behind the bookcase. Go!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Amara cried.
May you like
"If you die, Lily dies!" Marcello roared, his voice cracking with desperation. "Save my daughter, Amara! Please!"
Amara looked at the door, then back at the bleeding man. She grabbed the heavy black pistol from his lap, stuffed the blood-stained toy lamb into her jacket, and threw herself behind the heavy mahogany bookcase just as the study doors were kicked open.
