Chapter 2 - THE RIDE IN THE RAIN
|
The engine of the black Moretti sedan purred with a low, menacing growl beneath the concrete canopy of the garage.
The heavy rain lashed against the windshield, drowning out the muffled sounds of music from the ballroom upstairs.
Luca Moretti sat in the back seat, the small red wool mitten still clutched tightly in his tattooed fingers.
Sal adjusted his rear-view mirror, his dark chauffeur cap pulled squarely over his silver hair.
Thirty-four years of service had given Sal hands that were steady as bedrock, even as the storm gathered.
I sat in the front passenger seat, my housekeeping apron tucked beneath my knees, holding my breath.
Before Sal could shift into drive, the heavy fire door leading to the main house burst open with a violent metallic bang.
Vanessa Bellini rushed into the damp garage, clutching the wet skirt of her red evening gown to keep from tripping.
Her mascara was already running in dark, jagged tracks across her pale cheeks.
“Luca!” she shrieked, running toward the rear window and banging her diamond-ringed fists against the tinted glass.
“You can’t do this!”
“Unlock the door, Luca!”
Luca did not turn his head toward the glass.
He did not even blink as her manicured nails scratched against the reinforced window pane.
“Drive, Sal,” Luca commanded softly.
Sal pressed his foot to the accelerator, and the heavy sedan surged forward onto the wet gravel driveway.
Vanessa stumbled back as the rear tires threw a shower of water across the hem of her designer gown.
Her desperate screams were swallowed instantly by the roaring Chicago thunderstorm.
We cleared the massive wrought-iron security gates, turning onto the rain-slicked asphalt of Lake Shore Drive.
The city skyline was a blur of neon lights and dark, towering glass against the midnight sky.
Inside the car, the silence was so dense that the ticking of the dashboard clock sounded like a sledgehammer.
Luca stared down at the little red mitten resting on his knee.
His thumb traced the frayed yarn around the wrist, where a child’s teeth had chewed the edge.
“How long have you known about this house, Sal?” Luca asked, his voice dead and devoid of warmth.
Sal swallowed hard, his eyes flicking toward the mirror.
“Only since Tuesday night, kid.”
“She told me to take the alleyway off Belmont and cut the headlights before we turned onto West Addison.”
“She gave me a hundred-dollar bill and told me to keep the radio playing loud.”
“Did you see who was inside the house, Sal?”
Sal shook his head slowly.
“The porch light was yellow, covered in bugs.”
“The front door opened before she even walked up the steps.”
“An older woman in a nurse’s cardigan was standing by the screen door, holding the boy’s hand.”
“The kid was wearing blue dinosaur pajamas and these red mittens.”
Sal paused, his voice trembling slightly.
“He saw Vanessa, broke away from the nurse, and ran straight down the wet steps into the puddle.”
“He wrapped his little arms around her legs and shouted, ‘Mommy, you came back!’”
Luca’s jaw clenched so hard that a tendon leaped beneath his dark beard.
“And what did Vanessa do?” Luca whispered.
“She pushed him off her dress,” Sal answered quietly.
“She told him he was getting her silk dirty.”
“Then she handed the nurse a brown paper envelope and walked back to the car.”
I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach, nausea rising into my throat.
To treat an innocent child like an inconvenience was cruel beyond words.
To hide a living soul in the shadows while preparing to marry into a dynasty was monstrous.
Luca looked at the back of my head.
“Emma.”
I turned in my seat, meeting his fierce, shadowed eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“You risked your paycheck to bring Sal into that ballroom tonight.”
“I did, sir.”
“Why?”
I took a deep breath, clutching the fabric of my black dress.
“Because loyalty isn't something you throw in a cardboard box, Mr. Moretti.”
“My father spent forty years fixing railroad tracks with calloused hands.”
“When he had his stroke, his company sent him a plastic watch and forgot his name.”
“I watched that break his heart worse than the paralysis did.”
I looked down at the red mitten on Luca’s lap.
“Sal deserved to be looked in the eye.”
Luca watched me for several long seconds, something ancient and unreadable shifting behind his dark gaze.
He did not speak another word.
Sal eased the sedan onto the exit ramp, the headlights cutting through the foggy gloom of West Addison Street.
May you like
“We’re here, Luca,” Sal murmured.
“House number 1420.”
