Chapter 4 - THE COLD WATER AND THE GOLD BRACELET
The voice on the phone didn't belong to Vanessa. It was older, sharper, laced with a smoker’s rasp.
I stood on the sidewalk outside my apartment, my phone still pressed to my ear. Luca was a few steps ahead, speaking to Marco. The engine of the SUV hummed loudly in the quiet street.
Come to the harbor alone. If you tell Luca, she goes into the water.
Every instinct screamed at me to run to Luca, to beg him for his protection. He had the money, the power, the men. But he didn't know what it was like to be a mother. If they threw my three-year-old into the freezing Chicago river, no amount of mafia power could bring her back.
I lowered the phone.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level.
He turned, sensing the shift in my tone. “What is it?”
“I forgot Daniel’s medical insurance card inside. They need it at the hospital. Give me two minutes.”
Luca studied my face. His dark eyes missed nothing. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to see right through my lie. But he just nodded. “Make it fast.”
I ran back into the apartment building, bypassed my door, and sprinted down the back fire escape. The metal stairs rattled under my shoes. I hit the alleyway and ran until my lungs burned, flagging down a passing taxi on the main avenue.
“Navy Pier,” I gasped, throwing myself into the backseat. “The old shipping docks. Please, hurry.”
The docks were completely deserted at 2:00 AM. The wind whipping off Lake Michigan was brutal, cutting through my thin coat. I walked past the rusted shipping containers, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Hello?” I called out. My voice was swallowed by the sound of the crashing waves.
Suddenly, a set of headlights flicked on, blinding me.
A black sedan was parked at the edge of the concrete pier. A woman stepped out of the driver’s side. She was in her late fifties, wearing a thick wool coat. But it wasn't the coat that caught my attention.
It was the delicate, pure gold bracelet on her wrist.
I knew that bracelet. Vanessa had spent weeks bragging about it to the household staff. It was a custom piece, commissioned by Luca’s mother in Italy.
“You actually came alone,” the woman said, blowing out a stream of cigarette smoke. “I thought for sure the maid would run crying to her boss.”
“Where is my daughter?” I demanded, stepping forward.
“Not here,” the woman sneered. “Did you really think I’d bring a screaming three-year-old to a dock in the middle of the night?”
“Who are you?”
“I am Helen. Vanessa’s former nanny. And currently, the only person keeping your little brat from becoming a permanent resident of the foster system.”
She tossed a small object onto the ground at my feet.
I knelt down. It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on crumpled paper. It was a messy picture of a woman with brown hair and a man with a truck. Underneath, in shaky toddler handwriting, someone had helped her trace the words: Mommy and Daddy.
A sob ripped from my throat. “She knows us? How does she know us?”
“Daniel,” Helen spat. “Your stupid husband figured it out. He delivered a package to the summer house. The girl dropped her toy. He saw the birthmark on the back of her neck—the exact same one you have. He cornered me tonight at the gate when I was trying to sneak away with my payoff.”
“Your payoff?”
“Vanessa’s family paid me to take the baby from the hospital and hide her. They needed a child to pass off as Luca’s once the wedding happened. But Vanessa got sloppy. She stopped paying me. So, I took the kid, and I was leaving.”
“Give her back to me,” I begged, stepping toward her. “I won't tell the police. Just give me my baby.”
Helen pulled a small handgun from her pocket.
I froze.
“You’re not getting her back,” Helen said coldly. “Vanessa’s father found out I took the kid. He put a hit out on me. I need leverage to get out of the country, and right now, you and that baby are the only leverage I have to keep Luca from killing me.”
She pointed the gun at my chest. “Get in the trunk, Rachel.”
I backed away toward the edge of the pier. The dark water splashed violently below me.
“I said, get in the trunk!” she screamed.
“Put the gun down, Helen.”
The voice didn't come from me. It came from the shadows behind the shipping containers.
Luca Moretti stepped into the headlights. He had taken off his tie, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. In his right hand, he held a suppressed pistol, aimed directly at Helen’s head.
Helen panicked and spun toward him.
Before she could even raise her weapon, Luca fired.
The bullet struck the gun right out of Helen’s hand, shattering the metal and sending her screaming to her knees.
Luca didn't even blink. He walked forward, stepping over the shattered weapon, and grabbed Helen by the collar of her coat, dragging her to the very edge of the pier.
“You made two mistakes tonight, Helen,” Luca whispered, his voice like cracked ice. “First, you thought you could steal a child in my city. Second, you thought I wouldn't track the GPS on Rachel’s phone.”
He dangled her over the freezing water.
“Now, you have exactly three seconds to tell me where the child is, or you’re going for a swim you won't survive.”
Helen shrieked, kicking her legs. “The train station! Locker 402! I gave the key to the station manager and paid him to watch her!”
Luca threw her backward onto the concrete. Marco and two other guards appeared from the shadows, hauling the sobbing woman to her feet.
Luca turned to me, his chest heaving slightly. He looked down at the child’s drawing in my hands.
“Come, Rachel,” he said softly, his anger vanishing as he looked at me. “Let's go get your daughter.”
May you like
But as we turned to leave, Marco’s radio crackled.
“Boss. We have a problem at the train station. The locker is empty, and the manager is dead.”
