Chapter 6 - The Fire and the Ash
Isabella screamed.
“Luca, are you insane?!”
The money caught instantly. The flame turned orange, then yellow, crackling hungrily through the crisp paper. The smell of burning ink and paper filled the antique bedroom, sharp and acrid. Luca held the burning stack with an expression of complete indifference, watching the hundred-dollar bills curl into blackened ash.
When the fire reached within an inch of his fingers, he dropped the flaming mass into the empty copper coal bucket beside the hearth.
It flared up one last time, illuminating the cold, sharp angles of his face, before crumbling into gray dust.
Senator Castiglione’s face turned an ugly, mottled shade of crimson. “You dare disrespect me like this? Over a housemaid?”
Luca slowly snapped the lighter shut and slid it back into his pocket.
“You came into my house,” Luca said, his voice dropping into that chilling, quiet register that made the hairs on my arms stand up. “You entered a room under my protection. You threatened someone who eats from my table. And you attempted to buy my silence.”
“I am a United States Senator!” Castiglione roared, losing his polished veneer completely. “My family built this city while your grandfather was still pushing fruit carts off the boat! You need my political cover for your shipments through the canal! If I pull the inspectors, Moretti Enterprises will bleed ten million dollars a month!”
Luca didn't blink.
He stepped closer to the older man. The Senator tried to hold his ground, but Luca’s sheer physical dominance forced him to take half a step back.
“Your grandfather built this city on bribes,” Luca whispered, each syllable precise. “Mine built it on loyalty. You think I need your inspectors, Vincent? Matteo!”
Matteo stepped forward into the room, holding a thick manila folder.
“Hand it to him,” Luca commanded.
Matteo thrust the folder into the Senator’s chest. Castiglione snatched it instinctively, his hands shaking with fury. He flipped the cover open.
Whatever was inside drained the anger from the Senator’s face in an instant.
His eyes widened. His breath became ragged. The color vanished from his skin until he looked like a corpse.
“Where... where did you get this?” the Senator croaked, his voice cracking.
“Your private accounts in the Caymans,” Luca said casually. “The wire transfers from the Petrov syndicate in Brighton Beach. The bills of lading for the unregistered shipping containers arriving at Pier 42 next Tuesday.”
Isabella looked back and forth between her father and Luca, panic rising in her eyes. “Father? What is he talking about?”
Luca turned his cold gaze to Isabella.
“Your father wasn't securing political cover for me,” Luca said, the disgust dripping from his words. “He was selling my shipping lanes to the Russians behind my back. The marriage wasn't an alliance. It was a Trojan horse.”
The silence that fell over the room was absolute.
My heart pounded against my bruised ribs. The puppy let out a soft whimper, sensing the terrifying shift in the room’s air.
Isabella looked at her father, waiting for a denial. But Senator Castiglione couldn't speak. He stared at the documents, his chest heaving, trapped like a rat in an iron cage.
“I was going to overlook your petty cruelty, Isabella,” Luca said, turning his back on them and walking toward the bed where I sat. “I was going to let you walk away with an annulment, a generous settlement, and your dignity intact. But then your father walked into this room and threatened Emma’s life.”
Luca stopped at the edge of the bed. He reached down and gently placed a hand on top of the puppy’s head. The dog didn't flinch. He leaned into the touch, tail wagging once.
“The wedding is off,” Luca said without looking back.
“Luca, please!” Isabella cried, taking a frantic step forward, tears finally spilling down her cheeks—real tears this time, tears of pure, desperate ruin. “I didn't know about the Russians! I swear to God, I didn't know! You can't do this to me! You can't cast me out!”
“Matteo,” Luca said, ignoring her completely. “Escort the Senator and his daughter off the property. They have two hours to remove their personal belongings from the guest house. If either of them is seen within the city limits of Chicago after midnight, enforce the standing orders.”
“Understood, boss,” Matteo said.
Two large guards grabbed Senator Castiglione by the elbows, while Matteo gripped Isabella’s arm. She screamed, thrashing against him, hurling curses at Luca, at me, at the dog, her voice echoing down the vaulted hallway until the heavy double doors on the first floor slammed shut, cutting off the noise forever.
The room was still once more.
Only the crackling of the fireplace and the faint smell of burned money remained.
I sat there, trembling, clutching the blankets.
Luca stood looking at the empty doorway for a long moment. Then, slowly, he turned around and looked at me.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
The question sounded impossibly gentle after the violence that had just hung in the air.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. “Why did you do that? You just started a war with a Senator... for me?”
Luca walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress. The weight of his body caused the mattress to dip slightly, bringing him closer than he had ever been.
“I didn't start a war for you, Emma,” Luca said, his dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. “They started a war when they thought they could touch what belongs in this house.”
He paused, his gaze dropping to the puppy, then back to my bruised, bandaged side.
May you like
“And you,” Luca murmured, his voice rough and low, “are under my protection now. Nothing in this city will ever hurt you again.”
***
