Chapter 8 - THE SECOND CHILD
I stared at Isabella.
“What did you say?”
She grabbed my arm.
“There's another baby.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
Vincent looked confused.
“Boss, we need to move.”
I ignored him.
We ran downstairs.
A tiny bedroom sat behind a locked door.
Inside was a little girl.
About five years old.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
She looked at me.
Then at Isabella.
“Mommy?”
Isabella rushed to her.
I stood frozen.
The girl's face looked familiar.
Too familiar.
Vincent whispered:
“Oh God.”
I turned.
“What?”
He looked at the child.
“She's a Moretti.”
I stepped closer.
The girl stared at me.
“Who are you?”
I didn't know how to answer.
Isabella did.
“Your father.”
The girl smiled.
“Daddy?”
The word broke something inside me.
I crouched.
“What is your name?”
“Lucia.”
“How old are you?”
“Five.”
I looked at Isabella.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because if they knew about Daniel, they would kill him.”
“And now?”
“They already know.”
Outside, tires screamed.
Vincent looked through the window.
“Three SUVs.”
I picked up Lucia.
“We're leaving.”
We escaped through the back.
Bullets tore through the house.
Vincent returned fire.
Isabella ran beside me.
Lucia buried her face against my shoulder.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't thinking like a mafia boss.
I was thinking like a father.
Two children.
Two lives.
Both threatened because of my family.
We reached the car.
Then Vincent stopped.
“Boss.”
“What?”
He pointed across the street.
A black sedan.
Someone was watching.
A man stepped out.
He held up a phone.
The screen showed a photograph.
Daniel.
Elena.
Lucia.
Isabella.
All together.
Then another photograph appeared.
Me.
With a red circle around my head.
Vincent whispered:
“They know everything.”
I looked at him.
“How?”
He didn't answer.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A voice spoke.
Vincent's face went pale.
He handed me the phone.
“Gabriel.”
I took it.
Adrian Voss spoke.
“Congratulations.”
“What?”
“You found the family.”
“What do you want?”
“Thirty-two billion dollars.”
“You'll never get it.”
“Perhaps.”
He paused.
“Then I'll settle for something more valuable.”
“What?”
“Your son.”
I clenched my jaw.
“You touch Daniel and I will burn everything you own.”
Voss laughed.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“The money isn't the target.”
Silence.
“Then what is?”
“Power.”
He paused.
“Your father left the Black Ledger to Daniel.”
I looked at Lucia.
Then Isabella.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your six-year-old son controls the most dangerous financial network in America.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Vincent looked at me.
“Boss…”
I already knew.
This wasn't a war over money.
May you like
It was a war over who would control the future.
And someone had decided my children were the price.
