Chapter 10 - The Night Saint Catherine’s FellBianca hit the floor.
She had escaped.
Security footage from the hotel showed her leaving through a kitchen entrance wearing a housekeeper's uniform.
She took no luggage.
No phone.
No jewelry.
Just a handbag.
Luca knew exactly where she would go.
The old DeLuca house in Queens.
Not the estate.
The narrow brick home where Luca and Matteo had been born before Carlo became wealthy.
Bianca had refused to sell it.
"Why there?" Anna asked as they drove back toward New York.
"Because that's where she goes when she wants to remember who she was."
They found Bianca sitting at the kitchen table.
Alone.
A cup of coffee cooled before her.
She did not look surprised when Luca entered.
"You found Marco."
Not a question.
Luca stared.
"You knew he was alive."
"Yes."
Anna pushed past him.
"My father let me mourn him for twenty years because you helped hide him."
Bianca looked at her.
"I helped keep him alive."
"You also helped destroy my life."
"I know."
Anna's anger faltered at the simple admission.
Luca remained standing.
"Ames took Emilia."
Bianca's cup slipped from her hand.
Coffee spilled across the table.
"What?"
"Don't pretend."
"I didn't know."
"She wants you at Saint Catherine's tonight."
Bianca went pale.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because that's where everything started."
"No. It started when you chose fear over us."
Bianca closed her eyes.
Luca placed Elena's letter on the table.
His mother stared at it.
"Where did you find that?"
"Behind Elena's statue."
Bianca began crying.
"You kept the map."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I couldn't destroy it."
"You destroyed almost everything else."
"No."
She looked up sharply.
"I spent seven years trying to keep pieces alive without Vittorio noticing."
Luca laughed bitterly.
"You expect gratitude?"
"No."
For once, Bianca did not defend herself.
"I expect you to hate me."
That robbed Luca of momentum.
She stood.
"When Elena died, I knew Caroline was involved."
"Did you help kill her?"
"No."
"Did you know it would happen?"
Bianca hesitated.
"Not until the night before."
Luca's face hardened.
"And you said nothing to me."
"I tried to get Elena out."
Anna stared.
"How?"
"I gave her cash. A car. Documents."
"Why didn't she leave?"
"Because she wouldn't go without proof."
Of course.
Elena.
Stubborn until the end.
Bianca wiped her face.
"She told me she could save the family."
Luca whispered, "I would have chosen her over the family."
"I know that now."
"You should have known then."
Bianca nodded.
"Yes."
No excuse.
Just agreement.
That hurt more.
"After Elena died, Vittorio wanted Emilia removed."
"Killed."
Bianca nodded.
"I threatened to expose him."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because Caroline showed me photographs of you and Matteo."
She described surveillance.
Bomb plans.
Political protection.
Vittorio and Ames had contingency plans for everyone.
"So you made a deal," Luca said.
"I kept Emilia alive."
"By taking away her legs."
Bianca's face collapsed.
"I thought it would be weeks."
"You've said that."
"Caroline told me the medication would make her sleep. Therapy would suppress traumatic memories. Once Vittorio calmed down, I planned to stop everything."
"But?"
"Emilia screamed whenever someone tried to make her stand."
Dr. Ames' conditioning had worked too well.
Bianca became terrified that ending the treatment would trigger memories.
Then time passed.
A year.
Two.
Luca built his life around caring for a disabled daughter.
Doctors were bribed.
Records rewritten.
The lie became architecture.
"There was always another reason to wait," Bianca whispered.
Luca understood.
That was how cowardice became permanent.
Not through one enormous decision.
Through thousands of little postponements.
"Why hide the map in her wheelchair?"
"Because I wanted you to find it."
"When?"
"When I was brave enough to tell you where to look."
"Seven years, Mother."
"I know."
"What changed now?"
Bianca looked toward the window.
"Caroline contacted me six months ago."
The same time the Belladonna messages changed.
"She said Vittorio had become weak."
"She took control."
"Yes."
"What did she want?"
"The evidence."
"She knew Elena divided it."
"Not where."
"Until now."
Bianca looked at the letter.
"She must have followed Anna."
Anna shook her head.
"Why take Emilia?"
"Because Caroline doesn't leave witnesses."
Luca's blood chilled.
Bianca stood.
"We go tonight."
"You aren't making decisions."
"I'm not asking."
Luca stared at his mother.
For the first time in years, Bianca looked less like the elegant matriarch of the DeLuca family and more like the woman who had once raised two boys in a tiny kitchen while their father worked sixteen-hour days.
She opened her handbag.
Inside was a recorder.
Old.
Digital.
"What is that?"
"Insurance."
Luca nearly laughed.
Everyone in this family loved insurance.
Bianca pressed play.
Dr. Ames' voice filled the kitchen.
"If the girl begins walking again, we end it."
Another voice.
Vittorio.
"Bianca won't allow it."
Ames laughed.
"Bianca hasn't made a decision in twenty years that I couldn't frighten her into changing."
The recording continued.
Dates.
Names.
Admissions.
Bianca had secretly recorded meetings.
"For how long?" Luca asked.
"Five years."
"And you did nothing?"
"I was waiting."
"For what?"
"For enough evidence to destroy everyone at once."
Luca slammed his fist onto the table.
"While Emilia suffered!"
Bianca flinched.
"Yes."
That single word destroyed every remaining excuse.
She looked at him.
"I chose strategy over my granddaughter."
Her voice broke.
"I will regret that until I die."
No one spoke.
Bianca took the recorder.
"But tonight I can choose differently."
Saint Catherine's had been abandoned for five years.
The windows were boarded.
Weeds split the parking lot.
At eleven-thirty that night, four vehicles approached.
Luca.
Anna.
Marco.
Bianca.
Matteo and Dominic remained outside with teams positioned around the perimeter.
The exchange instructions demanded four people only.
Luca carried the original letter.
Marco carried copies of his records.
Bianca carried the recorder.
No one carried visible weapons.
Inside, emergency lights glowed down a corridor.
A speaker crackled.
"Welcome home, Emilia."
Luca looked up.
Dr. Ames' voice.
"Third floor."
They climbed.
Every step made Luca angrier.
His daughter had once been brought through these halls as a toddler.
Frightened.
Medicated.
Taught not to trust her own body.
On the third floor, they entered a former therapy gym.
Emilia sat in the center.
Strapped to a wheelchair.
Her face lit up.
"Daddy!"
Luca moved.
A gun appeared against Emilia's head.
Ames stepped from behind her.
"Stop."
Luca froze.
Ames smiled.
"Good."
Anna whispered, "You sick woman."
"That is unnecessarily emotional."
Marco stepped forward.
"Caroline."
She looked at him.
"Marco Bellini."
Her smile changed.
"I always wondered whether you would finally crawl out of your church."
Marco held up the folder.
"You want this."
"And Elena's letter."
Luca held it.
"Release Emilia."
Ames laughed.
"You still think this is an exchange."
She looked at Bianca.
"No."
"It's a funeral."
Bianca's voice remained calm.
"Then why bring us all together?"
"Because loose ends are exhausting."
Ames raised her weapon.
Emilia began crying.
Then Bianca did something no one expected.
She walked forward.
"Take me."
Ames frowned.
"What?"
"You've wanted me dead for years."
Bianca spread her arms.
"Take me. Let the girl go."
Luca stared.
"Mother."
Bianca did not look back.
For seven years, fear had made her betray everyone she loved.
Now she kept walking.
Ames smiled.
"How touching."
Then a gunshot exploded.
Bianca fell.
May you like
Emilia screamed.
And Luca's world went red.
