Chapter 8 - THE DAWN OF RETRIBUTION
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The morning sun broke through the storm clouds, painting the Chicago skyline in brilliant streaks of amber and gold.
Downstairs in the grand kitchen, the aroma of fresh dark-roast coffee and toasted sourdough filled the air.
Mrs. Carter and the kitchen staff moved with quiet, efficient reverence, speaking in hushed, respectful whispers.
Everyone in the estate knew what had occurred on the river docks before dawn.
Salvatore Bellini’s private yacht had been intercepted at the mouth of Lake Michigan.
His munitions had been seized, his offshore financial servers had been captured, and Salvatore himself was currently in federal custody with forty-two felony indictments.
The Bellini crime syndicate was dead, its assets liquidated, its name permanently erased from the city’s ledgers.
I carried a silver breakfast tray up the grand staircase, balancing a pot of steaming Earl Grey tea and fresh fruit.
I walked into the private sunroom of the master suite, where Teresa was sitting in a comfortable floral armchair.
The old woman looked like a different person this morning.
The fearful, trembling shadow that had hung over her for months had vanished.
She wore a soft lilac cardigan, her silver hair brushed neatly, her eyes clear and peaceful as she watched the morning birds in the garden.
“Good morning, Hannah,” Teresa smiled, her voice steady and warm.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moretti,” I said, setting the tray on the low table beside her.
“I brought you the berry scones you like.”
Teresa reached out, taking my wrist gently, her grip remarkably firm.
“I told you last night, child,” she scolded affectionately.
“You call me Teresa.”
“You are not a servant to this family anymore.”
Before I could answer, the French doors of the terrace opened, and Luca walked into the sunroom.
He had showered and shaved, though a fresh white bandage was taped securely over his left collarbone.
He wore a soft charcoal cashmere sweater and dark trousers, looking rested despite having fought a war five hours earlier.
When his eyes landed on me, a slow, radiant warmth spread across his handsome face.
“Good morning, Mom,” Luca said, leaning down to kiss Teresa’s cheek.
“Good morning, my brave boy,” Teresa replied, patting his cheek with pride.
“Is it done?”
“It’s done,” Luca said simply.
“Uncle Carmine is overseeing the transfer of the river leases this morning.”
“The Bellinis will never set foot in Illinois again.”
Luca turned to face me, his gaze sweeping from my freshly pressed black dress to my dark hair tied in a neat bun.
“Hannah,” he said softly.
“Yes, Luca?”
His eyes flickered with pleasure at hearing his name on my lips.
“Dr. Rossi called me twenty minutes ago.”
“Your mother was transferred to the private recovery suite at Northwestern this morning.”
“She has her own room, a view of the lake, and her physical therapy begins at noon.”
Tears prickled the corners of my eyes, but this time they were tears of pure, unadulterated relief.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I’m going to visit her this afternoon as soon as I finish the laundry.”
Luca frowned, crossing the room until he was standing directly in front of me.
He reached down, his large, warm hand catching mine, pulling my fingers away from the silver teapot.
“You are not doing the laundry, Hannah,” Luca said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“You are going to visit your mother in my private town car.”
“Marco will drive you, and two of my personal guards will remain outside her room around the clock.”
“Luca, that’s too much,” I protested softly.
“People will talk.”
“The staff will think—”
“I don't care what the staff thinks,” Luca interrupted, his thumb tracing the soft curve of my palm.
“And neither does my mother.”
Teresa chuckled from her armchair, taking a sip of her hot tea.
“Listen to him, Hannah,” Teresa said, her eyes twinkling with pure maternal mischief.
“My son has spent four years being miserable and stubborn.”
“This is the first time I’ve seen him smile since his father died.”
My cheeks flushed a deep, burning crimson as Luca’s grip on my hand tightened slightly.
He didn't let go.
He looked into my eyes with an absolute, terrifying certainty that made my heart hammer against my ribs.
May you like
“The Commission meets at noon today at St. Anthony’s,” Luca said quietly.
“And I want you there with me.”
