Chapter 2 - The Mafia Boss Showed Me the Secret Room Beneath the Burned House
I should have walked away.
That would have been the sensible choice.
I should have taken my mother home, called the police, and pretended Roman DeLuca had never walked through the door of the Starlight Diner.
Instead, I followed him back to the burned brownstone.
The building stood behind yellow tape and blackened windows.
By daylight it looked less like a haunted house and more like a corpse.
Roman's men had already cleared the street.
A black SUV waited at the curb.
I hesitated.
“Nobody is forcing you,” Roman said.
“That makes one person in this city.”
He almost smiled.
We entered through the rear.
The smell of charred wood and wet ash filled the hallway.
I remembered the boy's weight against my chest.
The sound of his breathing.
The tiny fingers clutching my collar.
Roman noticed me shivering.
“You don't have to go down there.”
“Yes, I do.”
We descended the basement stairs.
The hidden door was behind a shelving unit.
Roman used the key.
The wall opened.
Behind it was a reinforced room.
Inside were medical machines.
Documents.
Photographs.
A wheelchair.
And a child's drawing.
I stopped.
The drawing showed three people.
A little boy.
A woman.
And a man.
The man had a dark circle drawn over his face.
I looked at Roman.
“What does this mean?”
“Nico's mother.”
“Who?”
Roman didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“Clara Voss.”
The name meant nothing.
Roman opened a file.
“She was my father's daughter.”
I stared.
“Your cousin?”
“Half-sister.”
I understood.
Nico was not just Roman's son.
He was part of a family war.
“What happened to his mother?”
“She betrayed us.”
“Did she hurt Nico?”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“No.”
“She left him?”
“No.”
“Then what did she do?”
“She discovered what my family was hiding.”
Roman opened another file.
Inside were photographs of warehouses.
Bank records.
Shipping containers.
Names.
A network.
Not small.
Not local.
A criminal organization stretching across three states.
“The DeLuca empire isn't just money,” Roman said.
“It never was.”
I looked at a photograph.
My father's face appeared in the corner.
I stepped back.
“What was he doing here?”
“Your father worked for my family.”
“As a criminal?”
“As an infiltrator.”
I stared at him.
“He wasn't one of us.”
Roman shook his head.
“He was pretending.”
“Why?”
“To destroy us from the inside.”
My stomach twisted.
“Then why did he disappear?”
“Because somebody found out.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“My mother said he betrayed us.”
Roman's expression changed.
“He never betrayed you.”
“Then why leave?”
“He was killed.”
My breath caught.
“You just said disappeared.”
“I said that because I didn't know how much you could handle.”
“I'm twenty-eight.”
“And half the people in this city would use you to get to him.”
“He's dead.”
Roman didn't answer.
I turned.
“Isn't he?”
He finally said:
“We never found his body.”
I felt suddenly cold.
Before I could speak, a wheelchair rolled across the floor.
Nico.
He entered with a young nurse.
His eyes found mine.
Then widened.
I smiled.
He lifted his hand.
Just like he had every day.
I crouched beside him.
“Hi.”
His fingers moved toward mine.
He touched my hand.
Then he pulled a small folded piece of paper from his pocket.
I opened it.
Three words were written in shaky handwriting.
SHE KNOWS.
I looked at Roman.
“Who?”
Nico pointed toward the photograph of Clara.
His mother.
Then he pointed at me.
I looked back at the boy.
“What does she know?”
Nico couldn't answer.
But someone behind us could.
A woman stepped into the doorway.
She was elegant.
Blonde.
Forty, perhaps.
Her face was calm.
“Everything.”
Roman immediately drew his gun.
She smiled.
“You always were dramatic.”
Roman froze.
“Clara.”
Nico gasped.
The woman looked at me.
Then smiled sadly.
“Hello, Loretta.”
I stood.
“How do you know my name?”
She answered softly.
“Because I knew your father.”
The room went silent.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
“Gabriel Marino didn't disappear.”
“He went into hiding the night he learned your mother was going to kill him.”
My stomach dropped.
“My mother?”
Clara nodded.
“She wasn't the victim.”
Roman moved closer.
“That's enough.”
Clara looked at him.
“You still haven't told her the worst part.”
“What worst part?”
Clara's eyes met mine.
“Your mother ordered the fire.”
I stared.
“No.”
“The house wasn't burned to kill Nico.”
She paused.
“It was burned to erase the evidence that Nico was ever there.”
I couldn't breathe.
Someone had erased the boy.
Someone had erased my father.
And perhaps someone had spent years preparing to erase me.
Clara turned to leave.
“Wait.”
She stopped.
“Why did you save me?”
She looked over her shoulder.
“Because your father asked me to.”
“What?”
“Before he disappeared, Gabriel told me that if anyone came looking for Nico, I should find his daughter.”
“Why me?”
Clara smiled.
“Because you were the only thing he was ever afraid to lose.”
Then she disappeared through the doorway.
Roman remained silent.
I turned to him.
“You knew.”
He looked at me.
“Some of it.”
I stepped closer.
“You knew my father was alive?”
“No.”
“Did you know Clara?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know my mother ordered the fire?”
“No.”
I wanted to believe him.
I did not know if I could.
Nico suddenly grabbed my sleeve.
He pointed toward a broken panel in the wall.
We moved it.
Inside was a small tape recorder.
Roman pressed play.
Gabriel Marino's voice filled the room.
“Loretta, if you hear this, it means someone failed to keep you out of this.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother lied.”
I covered my mouth.
“She lied about my death.”
“She lied about yours.”
The recording crackled.
“The boy you rescue is not the only child they are hiding.”
I looked at Nico.
Gabriel continued.
“There are four.”
The tape ended.
Roman stared at the recorder.
“Four children?”
I nodded.
“Four heirs.”
“To what?”
May you like
Roman's face went pale.
“To the empire.”
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