Chapter 8 - THE SHADOW IN THE REARVIEW
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"Get the cars ready," Luca commanded, instantly transforming from an emotional brother into an apex predator.
"Every man we have, right now!"
"Boss, taking an armed convoy into downtown Chicago during rush hour will bring the feds down on us," Marco warned urgently.
"I don't give a damn about the federal government!" Luca roared, ripping a black tactical holster from his wall safe.
"My brother is sitting in a firehouse with no idea that an army of hitmen is coming to put a bullet in his head!"
He strapped the leather holster across his broad chest and loaded two custom semi-automatic pistols with practiced speed.
I stepped forward without thinking, my instincts taking over before fear could paralyze me.
"Mr. Moretti, let me come with you," I said firmly, shocking both Luca and Marco.
Luca turned on me, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Are you out of your mind, Claire? You are a maid, not a soldier!"
"I know Captain Miller's firehouse," I countered immediately, holding my ground against his intimidating glare.
"My younger cousin is a paramedic assigned to Engine 42, and I know their shift change routines and their private back entrances!"
"If you roll up with five black SUVs full of armed mobsters, the entire firehouse will lock down and call the police before you can explain anything!"
"You need someone who can walk through the front door without drawing fire!"
Luca stared at me for three long seconds, evaluating the fierce determination in my eyes.
"If you get shot, Claire, I will never forgive myself," he muttered grimly.
"I won't get shot," I replied, grabbing my heavy coat from the hook by the door.
"Eleanor, stay inside this safe room with Thomas," Luca ordered the old woman, kissing her wrinkled forehead.
"No one breaches this door until I return."
"Bring my boy home, Luca," Eleanor whispered, clutching her rosary beads against her chest.
Within ninety seconds, we were speeding through the wrought-iron gates of the estate in Luca's reinforced, bulletproof Mercedes sedan.
Three black Suburbans followed tightly behind us, carrying twelve of the most ruthless enforcers in northern Illinois.
The rain was coming down in blinding sheets, turning the Chicago asphalt into a dark, reflective mirror.
Luca drove like a madman, weaving through heavy evening traffic on the Kennedy Expressway at ninety miles per hour.
"Tell me about him, Claire," Luca spoke abruptly, his knuckles white against the leather steering wheel.
"Have you ever seen him in person?"
"Twice, at the annual department charity picnic," I answered, watching the windshield wipers struggle against the downpour.
"He is kind, Mr. Moretti. He laughs easily, he looks after his men like a father, and he never speaks about himself."
"He spent his entire life helping people because he genuinely believes the world is good."
Luca swallowed hard, a grim shadow crossing his handsome face.
"And I spent my entire life putting people in the ground."
"How am I supposed to look him in the eye and tell him he shares the blood of a monster?"
"You aren't a monster, Luca," I found myself saying, my voice soft yet entirely sincere.
"A monster would have let Vanessa build her spa and let the truth rot in the ground."
"You risked your entire empire the moment you chose Eleanor's roses over Vanessa's lies."
Luca glanced at me for a brief, electric moment, something deep and unspoken passing between us in the darkness of the car.
Suddenly, Marco's voice crackled through the tactical radio on the dashboard.
"Boss! Two black Dodge Rams just ran the red light two blocks ahead of us on Illinois Street!"
"They're cutting off the alleyway behind Engine 42!"
Luca slammed his foot down on the accelerator, the supercharged engine roaring like a beast unleashed.
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"All units, weapons free!" Luca shouted into the radio mic.
"Ram their vehicles off the street! Do not let them enter that building!"
