Chapter 3 - BOX 317
By sunrise, I had learned two things.
My ankle had a hairline fracture.
And Luca Castellano hated being questioned.
Unfortunately for him, I had eighteen months of unanswered questions.
“What secret?”
We were in Luca’s private medical clinic near Lake Union. Dr. Marchetti had wrapped my ankle and ordered six weeks without standing for long periods.
Six weeks.
I nearly laughed.
Rent was due in nine days.
Luca stood by the window.
“Jake wants you afraid of me.”
“I already am.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
“Good.”
I frowned.
“Good?”
“Fear keeps people alive when trust would make them careless.”
“That may be the creepiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
To my surprise, Dante coughed to hide a laugh.
Luca looked at him.
Dante immediately became fascinated with the wall.
I folded my arms.
“Take me to the safe-deposit box.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll go alone.”
“No.”
“You’re really attached to that word.”
“And you’re unusually committed to dangerous decisions.”
“My daughter’s name was written on a threat.”
That ended the argument.
An hour later, we entered the private vault facility through an underground garage.
Luca’s men secured every entrance.
Box 317 required the silver key and identification.
The forged account was mine.
So legally, they let me open it.
Inside was no money.
No jewelry.
Just a flash drive, a photograph, and a sealed letter.
The photograph showed my mother.
Beside her stood Luca’s father.
Salvatore Castellano.
They looked younger.
Much younger.
And far too familiar with each other.
I looked at Luca.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My father kept a copy.”
My hands shook as I opened the letter.
The handwriting belonged to my mother.
Ava, if you are reading this, then someone has already broken the promise we made.
My breath caught.
The letter explained that my mother, Katherine Carter, had worked as a forensic accountant twenty-six years earlier.
Not for Sloane.
For the Castellano organization.
She had discovered that Victor Sloane’s father and several corrupt businessmen were laundering money through construction projects and stealing from pension funds.
Salvatore Castellano had helped her collect proof.
Then someone betrayed them.
My mother fled.
Salvatore buried the evidence.
The original ledger vanished.
I reached the final paragraph.
The ledger is not money. It is protection. Never give it to anyone until you know who betrayed Salvatore.
I looked at Luca.
“Your father?”
“Murdered sixteen years ago.”
“And you think this ledger explains why?”
“I know it does.”
The flash drive contained encrypted files.
Dante took it.
“We’ll need time.”
“No,” I said.
Luca looked at me.
“It stays with me.”
“Ava.”
“My mother left it to me.”
“And people are threatening Emma for it.”
“Exactly why I’m not handing it to the mafia.”
His mouth almost curved.
“This is not funny.”
“No. But you calling me ‘the mafia’ while standing inside a vault protected by six of my armed men has a certain simplicity.”
I hated that I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then the lights died.
Complete darkness.
Luca moved before I understood what was happening.
His body slammed into mine, pushing me behind the steel boxes.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Three shots.
Then five.
“Stay down.”
Emergency lights flashed red.
Someone screamed in the hallway.
Luca drew a pistol.
I stared at him.
Whatever strange tenderness I had imagined in my apartment vanished.
This was Luca Castellano.
Dangerous.
Controlled.
Prepared.
Dante’s voice came through the darkness.
“Rear corridor compromised!”
Luca grabbed my hand.
“Move.”
We ran.
Or he ran.
I limped until he finally swore, lifted me, and carried me through the corridor.
“Again?” I gasped.
“You’re welcome.”
Bullets struck metal behind us.
We reached the garage.
A man stepped from behind a concrete pillar.
Luca turned.
The gunman raised his weapon.
I saw his face.
And screamed.
“Wait!”
Luca froze.
So did the gunman.
It was Jake.
He looked thinner.
Terrified.
Bleeding from his shoulder.
“Ava.”
Luca aimed directly at his chest.
“Drop it.”
Jake obeyed.
“Ask him,” Jake said.
“Ask him what?”
Jake stared at Luca.
“Ask Castellano who paid your mother’s hospital bills before she died.”
I looked at Luca.
Silence.
“Who?”
Luca lowered the weapon slightly.
“My father.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
Jake laughed bitterly.
“Because Katherine Carter wasn’t just his accountant.”
Luca’s face went hard.
“Enough.”
“No,” I said. “Let him speak.”
Jake looked at me.
“Your mother spent twenty-six years hiding who you really are.”
Footsteps thundered nearby.
Jake backed away.
“Jake!”
He looked at me one last time.
“Ask Luca why his father kept a photograph of you beside his bed.”
Then he disappeared through the emergency exit.
And for the first time since meeting Luca Castellano, I saw fear in Luca’s eyes.
May you like
Not fear of Jake.
Fear of what I was about to discover.
