Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Safe
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The phone number belonged to a small boat repair shop on the coast of Maine.
Luca dialed the digits from his personal satellite phone while standing on the private balcony outside Teresa’s suite.
The Chicago wind whipped his dark hair across his forehead as the line rang once, twice, three times.
Finally, a deep, raspy voice answered on the fourth ring.
“State your business.”
Luca’s breath hitched in his throat, five years of unspoken grief choking his voice.
“Dante?”
There was absolute, deafening silence on the other end of the line.
“Luca?” Dante’s voice came back, devoid of anger, filled only with an impossible disbelief.
“Mom needs you,” Luca said simply, the single tear he had fought back finally cutting down his cheek.
“Where is she?”
“She is at the estate.”
“Is she safe?”
“She is safe now,” Luca answered, his voice steadying.
“I know the truth, brother.”
“I know everything Michael and the Bellinis did to you.”
A long, ragged exhale sounded over the speaker from a thousand miles away.
“How did you find out?”
“Our mother learned how to write again,” Luca said, glancing through the glass doors at Teresa resting in bed.
“And a twenty-five-year-old girl with more spine than my entire board of directors refused to let Vanessa destroy her.”
Dante paused, his voice turning dead serious.
“Luca, if you know the truth, then you know Michael isn't acting alone.”
“Salvatore Bellini has been preparing to move on our shipping terminals for six months.”
“He used Vanessa’s engagement to place his men inside your perimeter.”
Luca’s eyes hardened into black flint.
“What men?”
“Check the second safe in the basement study,” Dante instructed quickly.
“The one behind the portrait of grandfather.”
“Michael kept duplicate ledgers of every shipment Bellini moved through Pier 42.”
“If Bellini realizes you’ve broken the engagement, he won't wait until morning to hit the docks.”
Luca’s posture shifted instantly from grieving brother to commanding general.
“How fast can you get to Chicago?”
“I have a twin-engine Cessna at the regional airstrip in Bangor,” Dante replied without hesitation.
“I can be on the tarmac at Midway in four hours.”
“I’ll have a secure car waiting for you,” Luca said.
“Come home, Dante.”
“I’m on my way.”
Luca ended the call and walked back into the bedroom where I was tucking a warm wool blanket around Teresa’s shoulders.
“Hannah.”
I straightened up immediately.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“I need you to stay with my mother tonight.”
“I will not leave her side,” I promised.
Luca looked down at me, his hand reaching out and gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, that my breath caught in my throat.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincere emotion.
“You saved my family tonight, Hannah.”
“I just did what was right, sir.”
“Call me Luca,” he whispered.
Before I could answer, a loud shatter of glass echoed from the ground floor below us.
The mansion’s silent alarm suddenly began pulsing a rhythmic, red light through the security panels on the wall.
May you like
Luca spun around, his hand instinctively dropping to the concealed holster beneath his suit jacket.
“They’re already here,” he muttered grimly.
