tenacity

Chapter 5 - THE THREAT FROM THE WEST SIDE

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The morning sun rose over Lake Michigan, casting long golden beams across the manicured grounds of the estate.

Yet the warmth outside could not penetrate the tension thickening inside Luca’s private study.

I stood near the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, holding a leather folder containing Lily’s school schedule and medical forms.

I had changed out of my black uniform into a tailored navy dress and flat leather shoes that Luca’s staff had delivered at sunrise.

Behind the massive mahogany desk sat Luca, his face carved from cold granite.

Across from him sat Don Alberto Bellini.

Alberto was sixty years old, with slicked-back silver hair, a scarred lip, and eyes as dead as winter ice.

He wore a thousand-dollar cashmere overcoat draped over his shoulders, and an unlit cigar was clamped between his yellowed teeth.

Beside him stood Vanessa, wearing dark sunglasses to hide her swollen, tear-stained eyes.

She looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred, her red-tipped fingernails digging into the leather of her handbag.

“You broke an alliance over a child’s haircut, Luca?” Alberto growled, slamming his fist onto the mahogany desk.

The crystal inkwell rattled, but Luca did not even flinch.

“I broke an alliance because your daughter is a malicious sociopath who terrorized a twelve-year-old girl,” Luca replied, his voice terrifyingly quiet.

“She lied to my daughter, she alienated my ex-wife, and she staged a publicity stunt using my family’s pain.”

Vanessa stepped forward, pulling off her sunglasses.

“She is a spoiled brat, Luca!” Vanessa shrieked, her voice echoing off the wood-paneled walls.

“Her mother abandoned her, and I was trying to make her into someone respectable!”

Before she could finish the sentence, Luca rose from his chair with the blinding speed of a striking cobra.

He leaned across the desk, his shadow completely swallowing Vanessa.

“Caroline never abandoned her,” Luca snarled, each syllable dripping with venom.

“And if you ever speak my ex-wife’s name or look at my daughter again, Alberto won't have a daughter left to complain about.”

Alberto rose slowly, his coat falling back to reveal the black holster strapped across his chest.

“You threaten my blood in front of me, boy?” Alberto hissed.

“Your father and I ran these streets before you were out of diapers.”

“You think you can cast Vanessa aside for a common maid?”

Alberto turned his cold, predatory gaze directly toward me.

My heart leaped into my throat, but I forced my chin up, refusing to look away from the mob boss.

“I know who you are, Emma Sullivan,” Alberto said with a sickening, razor-thin smile.

“I know your mother lives on Ashland Avenue.”

“I know she walks with a silver cane.”

“Accidents happen very easily to old women on slippery Chicago sidewalks.”

A terrifying sound filled the room—the crisp, metallic slide of a firearm being chambered.

Luca had pulled a sleek black semi-automatic pistol from his waistband, leveling the barrel directly between Alberto Bellini’s eyes.

Marco and three armed Moretti guards immediately stepped through the side doors, their weapons drawn and aimed at Alberto’s enforcers.

“Say another word about Emma’s mother,” Luca whispered, the cold fury in his eyes enough to freeze blood.

“Say one more syllable, Alberto, and you will not leave this room alive.”

Alberto’s smile vanished completely.

He looked at the red laser dots dancing across his chest, then back into Luca’s unblinking eyes.

He realized that Luca was not bluffing.

The Moretti Don would burn the entire city of Chicago to ash before he allowed anyone to touch the people under his roof.

“This isn't over, Moretti,” Alberto rasped, slowly backing toward the door while pulling his trembling daughter with him.

“The Commission will hear about this.”

“Tell them whatever you want,” Luca replied, lowering the gun slowly.

“And tell them that if any Bellini soldier sets foot on the South Side, they will be returned to you in pieces.”

The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind the disgraced family.

Luca exhaled slowly, holstering his weapon, and turned toward me.

The murderous rage in his face vanished instantly, replaced by a deep, protective concern.

“Emma,” he said, his voice soft as silk.

“Are you all right?”

I took a trembling breath, looking into the dark eyes of the man who had just risked a mob war to protect my mother.

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“I’m fine, Luca,” I whispered.

And for the first time in my life, I truly felt invincible.

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