Chapter 8 - The Last Contract
Daniel Russo was under federal guard.
Yet the contract remained active.
That meant the assassin was already in motion.
Luca ordered Elena, Sofia, Clara, Adrian and Mia moved to a secure property.
Sofia refused.
“I just got Mommy back.”
“You're going with her.”
“Are you coming?”
Luca hesitated.
Sofia understood immediately.
“No.”
“Sofia—”
“No!”
She wrapped herself around him.
“You always say family stays together.”
Luca looked at Elena.
His wife had tears in her eyes.
For years Luca had believed strength meant standing alone between danger and the people he loved.
Perhaps that was exactly what his enemies counted on.
So he changed the plan.
Nobody left.
Instead, they made the estate appear abandoned.
Lights went dark.
Cars departed.
Guards withdrew visibly while hidden teams remained.
At 2:13 a.m., a sensor tripped.
One person entered through the servants' tunnel.
Luca watched the thermal feed.
The intruder knew every blind spot.
Every door.
Every security protocol.
Marco whispered, “Whoever this is has been here before.”
The figure entered Luca's study.
Luca switched on the light.
A woman stood before him.
Rebecca Hale.
Except Rebecca Hale wasn't fictional after all.
She was Daniel's longtime attorney.
And the person who had arranged Clara's employment.
She raised a pistol.
“You made this much harder than necessary.”
“You sent Clara here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To unlock the ledger.”
“You used my daughter.”
“I used everyone.”
Luca stared at her.
“You killed my father?”
Rebecca smiled.
“No.”
A shot exploded.
Her weapon flew from her hand.
Elena stood behind Luca with a gun.
“Don't move.”
Rebecca laughed.
“You always were your father's daughter.”
Elena's face hardened.
“No.”
“That must hurt.”
“What?”
“Realizing you spent four years running from the wrong parent.”
Luca frowned.
Rebecca continued.
“Daniel was greedy. Vittorio was arrogant. But your mother, Elena…”
Elena went pale.
“My mother died when I was twelve.”
Rebecca smiled.
“Did she?”
The room fell silent.
It was another manufactured death.
Another ghost.
Daniel had learned the trick from his wife.
Elena's mother, Isabella Russo, had created the original financial network decades earlier.
She was alive.
And she had ordered Luca's assassination.
Rebecca reached toward her ankle.
Marco tackled her.
The second gun discharged into the ceiling.
Within seconds she was restrained.
“Where's Isabella?” Elena demanded.
Rebecca smiled.
“Already here.”
An alarm sounded.
Fire.
Smoke poured from the west wing.
Luca ran toward Sofia's room.
Empty.
His heart stopped.
“Sofia!”
A scream came from downstairs.
He followed.
The kitchen.
Of course.
Everything had started there.
Isabella Russo stood beside the stove.
Seventy years old.
Elegant.
Cold.
One hand rested on Sofia's shoulder.
A gun pressed against the child's side.
Elena entered behind Luca.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“Mom?”
Isabella smiled.
“Hello, darling.”
Elena looked like a child herself.
“You're alive.”
“So are you. Our family has always been difficult to kill.”
“Let Sofia go.”
“I will.”
Isabella looked at Luca.
“When he gives me the ledger.”
Luca slowly placed the drive on the counter.
Sofia was crying silently.
Clara appeared in the doorway behind Isabella.
Luca saw her.
Isabella didn't.
Clara's eyes met his.
Luca needed a distraction.
He began singing.
Elena stared at him.
The song.
Her song.
Sofia's eyes lifted.
Luca sang badly.
Terribly, actually.
But Sofia understood.
She joined him.
Isabella frowned.
“What are you doing?”
Elena began singing too.
Then Clara.
For a few strange seconds, the kitchen filled with the melody that had connected every secret in their family.
Isabella's attention shifted.
Clara grabbed a cast-iron pan and slammed it against Isabella's wrist.
The gun fell.
Luca lunged.
Marco entered.
Seconds later Isabella was restrained.
Sofia ran into Elena's arms.
It was over.
Almost.
Federal agents arrested Isabella and Rebecca.
The ledger exposed an entire criminal network.
Daniel agreed to testify in exchange for protection.
Vittorio did the same.
But Luca refused to celebrate.
He stood alone in the kitchen at sunrise.
Clara entered.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
She smiled faintly.
“Occupational hazard.”
Luca looked at her.
“You saved Sofia.”
“She saved me first.”
“How?”
Clara looked toward the doorway.
“Before this house, I didn't have anyone.”
Luca understood.
“You do now.”
Clara's eyes filled.
Then she handed him an envelope.
“This was inside Vittorio's confession. I didn't know when to give it to you.”
It was addressed to Luca.
Inside was a final note from Elena written four years earlier.
Luca read it.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Clara asked.
Luca handed her the letter.
Near the bottom Elena had written:
If I survive, I don't know whether Luca will ever forgive me.
But if I don't, tell him one thing.
The happiest place I ever lived was not Paris, Boston, or our first apartment.
It was our kitchen on Sunday mornings.
Luca looked around the room.
The room where his dead wife had returned through a song.
And for the first time he understood something his empire had never taught him.
May you like
A house could be guarded by fifty armed men and still not be safe.
Safety was knowing the people inside it didn't have to lie anymore.
