Chapter 3 - The Traitor UpstairsBy sunrise, nobody was allowed to leave DeLuca Tower.
Luca stood beneath a flickering security light across the street while Marco studied a tablet.
“Thermal shows nine.”
“Nine armed?”
“Seven definitely. Two unclear.”
“And Daniel?”
“Back office. Northwest corner.”
Luca looked at the old brick building.
He had spent fifteen years creating rules that kept chaos from spreading into ordinary lives.
No trafficking.
No children.
No businesses forced to surrender property.
No violence against families who had nothing to do with the life.
Men like Moretti called those rules weakness.
Luca called them the reason fewer mothers buried sons.
Tonight Moretti had violated three of them.
Marco watched his boss.
“We can call Salvatore.”
“No.”
“He has thirty men within ten minutes.”
“And thirty men make noise.”
Marco smiled faintly.
“Twelve apparently don’t?”
“Twelve make less.”
Three black SUVs waited without headlights behind them.
Luca checked the suppressor on his pistol.
“Daniel comes out first.”
“And Moretti?”
“Alive.”
Marco’s smile vanished.
That answer was worse.
Across town, Emily sat wrapped in Luca’s jacket at a kitchen island worth more than her father’s entire house.
A woman named Rosa had cleaned the cut on her eyebrow and offered soup.
Emily had managed three spoonfuls.
Her hands would not stop shaking.
Every minute felt like betrayal.
She should have called the police weeks ago.
She should have taken Daniel somewhere safe.
She should have sold the shop.
She should have done a hundred things differently.
But fear had narrowed her world until survival became a series of decisions made one hour at a time.
Rosa placed tea in front of her.
“Drink.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
Emily looked at the older woman.
“Does he always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Walk into warehouses full of armed men because a stranger asked?”
Rosa almost smiled.
“No.”
That answer somehow made Emily more nervous.
“Then why me?”
Rosa studied her carefully.
“You remind him of something.”
“What?”
“That isn’t mine to tell.”
Emily looked toward the enormous windows.
Manhattan glittered below.
Somewhere inside that city, Daniel was tied to a chair because she had refused to surrender the final thing their father left them.
Her phone buzzed.
Emily jumped so violently she spilled tea.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A distorted male voice spoke.
“Ms. Carter.”
Her stomach turned.
“Where’s Daniel?”
“You were told not to contact anyone.”
“I didn’t contact the police.”
“No. You did something much more stupid.”
She rose.
Rosa watched her.
The voice continued.
“You went to DeLuca.”
Emily’s blood went cold.
“How do you know?”
A laugh.
“You think Luca DeLuca doesn’t have enemies?”
Then the call ended.
Emily stared at the phone.
“Rosa.”
The older woman was already reaching beneath the kitchen counter.
She withdrew a handgun.
Emily stepped back.
“What—”
“Security room. Now.”
The penthouse lights died.
Darkness swallowed everything.
A second later, glass exploded.
Rosa tackled Emily behind the island as gunfire ripped through the windows.
Emily screamed.
Three floors below, the building’s backup security system activated.
Steel shutters began descending.
Too slowly.
A masked man stepped through the shattered terrace door.
Rosa fired twice.
He dropped.
A second attacker appeared.
Emily crawled across broken glass.
Another gunshot.
Rosa cried out and collapsed.
“Rosa!”
“Run!”
Emily didn’t.
Maybe six weeks earlier she would have.
Six weeks earlier fear had controlled every movement she made.
But Daniel had been taken because she kept hoping monsters would eventually become reasonable.
They didn’t.
Emily grabbed the fallen attacker’s pistol.
Her hands shook violently.
The second man rounded the island.
Emily pointed.
“Stop.”
He laughed.
She recognized his eyes.
Tommy Russo.
Moretti’s collector.
The man who had held her against the wall while Vincent broke two of her ribs.
“Well, look at you.”
“Don’t come closer.”
“You won’t shoot.”
He stepped forward.
Emily pulled the trigger.
The shot struck the marble beside his foot.
Tommy stopped.
Emily stared at the gun in horror.
She had missed.
But now Tommy wasn’t smiling.
“Put it down.”
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
He lunged.
She fired again.
This time the bullet hit his shoulder.
Tommy spun and fell.
Building security burst through the doorway seconds later.
Emily dropped the weapon.
Rosa groaned beside her.
Emily crawled to her.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Just my arm.”
Emily pressed a towel against the wound.
Her phone rang again.
This time the name on the screen was LUCA.
She answered immediately.
“Luca?”
Gunfire echoed behind his voice.
“Are you hurt?”
Her breath caught.
“How do you know?”
“The security alarm.”
“They came here.”
“I know.”
“Rosa’s been shot.”
“Medical team is two minutes away.”
A loud crash sounded on his end.
“Daniel?”
“We have him.”
Emily covered her mouth.
“Is he alive?”
A younger male voice shouted in the distance.
“Em!”
Emily broke.
“Daniel?”
“I’m okay!”
She cried so hard she almost couldn’t speak.
Luca’s voice returned.
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“Listen carefully. Daniel is safe. Marco is bringing him to you.”
“And you?”
“I’m staying.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then Luca said, “Because Moretti isn’t here.”
Emily wiped her face.
“What?”
“He knew we were coming.”
Her relief turned instantly to fear.
“Then where is he?”
“I don’t know yet.”
In the warehouse, Luca stood among overturned chairs.
Five of Moretti’s men were on their knees.
Two were unconscious.
One stared at Luca with terror.
Luca crouched.
“How did Moretti know?”
The man remained silent.
Luca pulled out his phone.
He displayed a photograph of Emily.
“Someone went after her in my home while we were here.”
The man’s eyes shifted.
That was enough.
Luca leaned closer.
“I’m going to ask once more.”
“Go to hell.”
Luca stood.
“Marco.”
Marco paused at the exit with Daniel.
“Yes?”
“Take the boy.”
Daniel, bruised but alive, looked back.
“Wait. Emily said—”
“She asked me to bring you home.”
Luca met his eyes.
“I did.”
Daniel hesitated, then followed Marco out.
Once the doors closed, Luca turned toward the kneeling man.
Twenty minutes later, he had his answer.
Not from torture.
Fear worked faster when people believed you did not need it.
Moretti had known because someone inside Luca’s organization had warned him.
A traitor.
And Moretti’s attack on Emily had not been about revenge.
It was distraction.
Luca returned to the penthouse shortly before dawn.
The terrace was sealed with temporary panels.
Police would never come.
His private medical team had stitched Rosa’s arm.
Daniel slept in a guest room.
Emily stood alone beside the shattered windows.
She turned when Luca entered.
There was blood on his collar.
Not his.
She crossed the room.
“You found him?”
“No.”
Her shoulders fell.
“But Daniel is safe.”
“I know.”
She looked at Luca for several seconds.
“Thank you.”
He should have accepted the gratitude.
Instead he noticed dried blood on her palm.
“What happened?”
“I cut myself.”
He reached for her hand.
Emily flinched again.
Less than before.
But enough.
Luca stopped.
“May I?”
The question surprised her.
Slowly, she extended her hand.
He turned it over.
A small piece of glass was embedded near her thumb.
“You need this removed.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t mean you keep collecting injuries.”
His voice was unexpectedly gentle.
Emily watched while he removed the glass with tweezers.
She noticed the scars across his knuckles.
Old scars.
A burn along his wrist.
“You have a lot of scars.”
“So do you.”
“Mine aren’t permanent.”
Luca looked up.
“Some scars don’t need to be visible to stay.”
Emily’s eyes dropped.
He bandaged her palm.
“What happens now?”
“To you?”
“To all of us.”
Luca straightened.
“Moretti has someone feeding him information from inside my organization.”
“That sounds bad.”
“It is.”
“Then Daniel and I should leave.”
“No.”
“We’re putting you in danger.”
Luca actually smiled.
It was brief and humorless.
“Emily, you are not the dangerous part of this situation.”
She folded her arms.
“We can go somewhere Moretti won’t find us.”
“He found you in my penthouse.”
She had no answer.
“He’ll find you anywhere.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you stay here until this ends.”
“I’m not becoming your prisoner.”
His expression changed.
“You will never be anyone’s prisoner in this house.”
The words came with enough force that Emily believed him.
Luca continued.
“You can leave whenever you want. But if you walk outside tonight, Moretti may have a rifle pointed at the street before you reach the corner.”
Emily looked toward Daniel’s room.
“How long?”
“Until I find him.”
“And if that takes months?”
“It won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
Luca slipped his jacket off.
“Because men like Vincent Moretti make one mistake when they’re frightened.”
“What?”
“They run to people they trust.”
“And?”
“I know every person he trusts.”
Emily studied him.
Then she asked the question that had been sitting inside her since he returned.
“Did you kill anyone tonight?”
Luca did not lie.
“Yes.”
She looked away.
He expected fear.
Instead she whispered, “Were they the men guarding Daniel?”
“Yes.”
A long silence.
“Does that make me terrible if I’m glad?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because relief isn’t the same thing as cruelty.”
Emily met his gaze.
For one strange moment, neither moved.
Then Marco entered.
His face was tense.
“Boss.”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“We traced Moretti’s last burner.”
“Where?”
Marco hesitated.
“That’s the problem.”
“Say it.”
“He didn’t call someone outside.”
Luca became still.
Marco continued.
“The phone pinged here.”
Emily frowned.
“Here?”
Marco looked around the penthouse.
“Inside this building.”
And Luca understood immediately.
May you like
The traitor wasn’t merely inside his organization.
The traitor was inside his home.
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