Chapter 7 - The Unforgivable Betrayal|
I hurried Ava back to the main house, holding her hand tightly as armed guards patrolled every corridor.
We went up to the second-floor master suite, where a roaring fireplace kept the chilly autumn air at bay.
Ava was completely exhausted from the emotional turmoil, falling asleep within minutes after washing the dust from her face.
I sat on the velvet armchair beside her bed, watching over her until the clock struck three in the morning.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Luca stepped inside, carrying two cups of black coffee.
He had removed his suit jacket, wearing only a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
I could see dark, intricate tattoos creeping up his neck and wrists, the unmistakable marks of a syndicate patriarch.
"Is she asleep?" he asked quietly, handing me one of the porcelain mugs.
"Yes, sir," I whispered, thanking him with a small nod.
"She fell asleep holding the silver cord from the pouch."
Luca looked toward the bed, his dark eyes softening as he looked upon his resting daughter.
He pulled up a wooden chair and sat opposite me, taking a slow sip of the bitter coffee.
"Caroline told me once that Ava had a sixth sense about dishonest people," Luca murmured.
"I should have listened to my child when she cried the day Vanessa moved in."
"You were trying to give her a complete family, Mr. Moretti," I said gently.
"Grief makes all of us blind to things we would otherwise notice in an instant."
Luca looked at me closely, the golden light of the fireplace dancing across his chiseled jaw.
"You're very observant, Rachel."
"Most people in this house are too terrified of me to speak their minds."
"I was terrified tonight," I admitted with a quiet, humorless smile.
"My knees were shaking so hard under my skirt that I thought I would drop the halter."
"Then why did you bring it to the table?"
"Because watching a child lose her memories of her mother is far scarier than losing a paycheck."
Luca stared at me for several quiet moments, a look of profound respect settling onto his features.
"Marco spent the last three hours interrogating the private mechanic who inspected Caroline's car four years ago," Luca said, his tone suddenly dropping into darkness.
"What did he find?" I asked, holding my breath.
"The mechanic confessed that Don Antonio Bellini, Vanessa’s father, paid him fifty thousand dollars to loosen the brake lines before Caroline drove home from that gala."
My hand flew to my mouth in sheer horror as the true scale of their evil became clear.
"They murdered your wife," I breathed, feeling a cold chill run down my spine.
"They murdered the mother of my child so they could push Vanessa into my bed and control my territory," Luca confirmed, his voice vibrating with absolute lethal intent.
"They thought four years of silence meant they had gotten away with it."
"They didn't realize that Caroline left a witness behind."
He looked toward the window, where the first faint gray light of dawn began creeping over the tree line.
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"The Bellinis think they can threaten me with war," Luca whispered coldly.
"They are about to learn what happens when you touch the Moretti family."
