Chapter 3 - THE TRAITOR INSIDE MY HOUSE
There were only three people in Chicago I trusted without question.
My brother Luca.
My security chief Marco DeLuca.
And my attorney, Vincent Caruso.
Luca had already nearly died.
That left two.
“Give me a name.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“I don’t have proof.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Anna found account records.”
His voice weakened.
“Payments from Morelli companies to someone inside Vance Holdings.”
I leaned closer.
“Who?”
“Initials only.”
“What initials?”
Luca looked at me.
“M.D.”
My stomach tightened.
Marco DeLuca.
The man standing outside the room.
The man who had worked beside me for nineteen years.
The man who helped carry my father’s coffin.
The man who had just brought Anna into my home.
I stepped back.
Luca grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
I almost laughed.
“You’re giving me advice?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Elias, M.D. could mean anyone.”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You want it to be simple.”
That stopped me.
He was right.
I wanted one traitor.
One enemy.
One person to punish.
Truth was rarely that convenient.
I returned to the estate before dawn.
Marco met me in the foyer.
“How is Luca?”
“Alive.”
Relief crossed his face.
Too quickly?
Or exactly as it should?
I hated that suspicion could poison everything once it entered.
“Anna is sleeping,” he said. “The babies were fed an hour ago.”
I nodded.
Then asked casually:
“Do you know anyone at Morelli Distribution with the initials M.D.?”
Marco didn’t move.
“No.”
“Think.”
He looked at me.
“Why?”
I smiled faintly.
“Because I asked.”
For one second, something flashed across his face.
Not fear.
Hurt.
“Are you asking me something else?”
I stared.
Then decided.
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think I betrayed you.”
“I think Luca found payments tied to M.D.”
Marco looked away.
Then laughed once.
Bitterly.
“After nineteen years.”
“I’m asking.”
“No. You’re accusing.”
Before I could answer, Anna’s scream echoed from upstairs.
We both moved.
I reached her room first.
She was standing despite her injuries, one hand gripping the crib.
The second bassinet was empty.
My blood froze.
“Sofia?”
She shook her head violently.
“Lucia.”
The window stood open.
Snow blew into the room.
A blanket lay on the floor.
Someone had taken one of my brother’s newborn daughters from inside my home.
Marco shouted orders.
Security locked down the estate.
I knelt beside the open window.
There were footprints beneath it.
One set.
Large boots.
Then something glittered against the sill.
A cuff link.
Silver.
Stamped with a V.
I recognized it.
It belonged to Vincent Caruso.
My attorney.
The man I had trusted since I was twenty-four.
May you like
And suddenly M.D. didn’t matter nearly as much.
Because whoever had taken Lucia wanted me looking at the wrong traitor.
