Chapter 8 - THE FAMILY HEIRLOOM
The neon glow of a 24-hour diner cast long, jittery shadows across the cracked vinyl booth.
We had walked two miles along the river before finding a place to hide. Luca had bought Leo a hot chocolate, and the little boy was currently asleep, his head resting in Vanessa's lap.
I sat across from them, clutching a cup of black coffee to warm my freezing hands.
"The bank opens in four hours," Luca said, staring at the brass key resting on the Formica table. "As soon as the doors unlock, we go in, get the ledger, and walk it straight across the street to the FBI field office."
Answer one: The ledger had been hiding in plain sight for five years, kept safe around the neck of the child Silvio wanted to murder.
Open two: If the deposit box belonged to Michael, the bank wouldn't let just anyone open it without proper identification. How were we going to get inside?
"Luca," Vanessa whispered, gently stroking Leo’s dark hair. "The box is under Michael’s name. Even with the key, they require a thumbprint or a matching ID to access the vault. We don't have either."
Luca’s expression hardened. "They’ll let me in. The bank manager is on Silvio's payroll. He knows who I am."
"If he's on Silvio's payroll, the second you walk through those doors, he's going to call Silvio!" I pointed out, my voice rising in panic. "Silvio's men will kill us in the lobby!"
A reversal suddenly dawned on me. The bank manager wouldn't let Luca in because Luca was currently a target. But there was someone the manager would let in without question.
"I can do it," I said.
Luca and Vanessa both looked at me in shock.
"Emily, no," Luca said immediately. "It's too dangerous."
"Listen to me," I insisted, leaning over the table. "Every Tuesday for the last eleven months, Mrs. Carter sends me to that exact bank to retrieve the household petty cash from the Moretti trust. The manager, Mr. Davis, knows my face. He knows I run errands for the family."
I picked up the brass key.
"If you walk in, he calls Silvio. If I walk in wearing my uniform, I tell him Silvio sent me to retrieve the contents of this box immediately. I have the key. He’ll think Silvio is cleaning house before the feds arrive."
Luca stared at me. For a moment, the mafia boss was gone, replaced by a man looking at a woman with profound admiration.
"Why are you doing this, Emily?" Luca asked softly. "You could walk away right now. You have the FBI looking for corruption. You're safe."
I touched my swollen lip. "Because Silvio isn't just a monster to your family, Mr. Moretti. Men like him step on people like me every single day, and we're supposed to just take the bruises and say 'thank you, sir.' Not today."
At 8:00 AM, the heavy glass doors of First Chicago Federal unlocked.
I walked in. I was still wearing my housekeeping uniform. My apron was muddy, my hair was a mess, and my lip was bruised purple. I looked exactly like a maid who had been dragged out of bed for an emergency mafia errand.
I walked straight to the manager’s desk. Mr. Davis looked up, frowning at my appearance.
"Emily? What are you doing here?"
I slapped the brass key onto his mahogany desk. I channeled every ounce of Vanessa’s arrogant, entitled tone.
"Silvio sent me," I said, keeping my voice cold and urgent. "The FBI raided the chapel last night. He needs the contents of Box 402 immediately. Do not log the entry, and do not make a phone call."
Davis paled at the mention of the FBI. He looked at the key, then at my bruised face, clearly assuming Silvio had roughed me up to ensure my obedience.
He swallowed hard. "Follow me."
He led me into the massive steel vault. He inserted his master key, I inserted Michael’s brass key, and the heavy metal door of Box 402 popped open.
I pulled out the long metal tin.
Inside sat a thick, black leather-bound ledger book. The holy grail of the Moretti crime syndicate.
I shoved it into my apron pocket, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Thank you, Mr. Davis."
I walked out of the vault, crossing the marble lobby. The glass doors were just ten feet away. Luca and Vanessa were waiting in an alley across the street. We were going to win.
Then, the heavy glass doors slid open.
Standing in the entrance, blocking my path to the street, was Silvio.
May you like
Flanking him were two massive enforcers. And standing right next to Silvio was Police Commissioner Higgins.
"Going somewhere, Emily?" Silvio smiled, his cold eyes dropping to the heavy bulge in my apron pocket. "I believe you have something that belongs to my family."
