Chapter 10 - BLOOD AND RETRIBUTION
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The sun sank below the horizon, plunging the city of Chicago into an ominous, ink-black night.
The Moretti estate had been transformed into an impenetrable military fortress.
Fifty heavily armed syndicate soldiers in tactical gear patrolled the perimeter with Belgian Malinois attack dogs.
Caroline, Lily, and my mother were safely locked inside the subterranean safe room beneath the mansion, protected by steel blast doors.
I stood in the grand foyer, my hands wrapped in clean white bandages by the estate physician.
I watched as twenty black armored SUVs lined up along the driveway, their engines rumbling like approaching thunder.
Luca walked down the grand marble staircase, completely transformed.
He had discarded his tailored business suit for a black tactical turtleneck, combat trousers, and an assault vest loaded with magazines.
A custom combat knife was strapped to his thigh, and dual automatic pistols were holstered beneath his broad shoulders.
He looked every inch the ruthless underworld king who ruled the Midwest with an iron fist.
Yet, when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw me waiting by the entrance, his terrifying aura softened instantly.
He walked straight to me, stopping only inches away.
He reached out, his gloved fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my bruised forehead.
“You should be downstairs with Lily and your mother, Emma,” he said, his voice low and intensely gentle.
“I couldn't sit in that room, Luca,” I whispered, looking up into his dark, storm-filled eyes.
“I needed to see you before you left.”
Luca looked down at my bandaged hands, his thumb tracing the white gauze with agonizing tenderness.
“You threw yourself on top of my daughter while a man pointed a gun at your head,” he murmured, his voice trembling with rare emotion.
“I would do it again, Luca,” I said without a single moment of hesitation.
“Lily is everything.”
Luca took a slow, deep breath, stepping closer until his chest pressed against mine.
He cupped my face with his large, warm hands, his thumbs resting against my cheekbones.
“You are everything, Emma,” he whispered, his eyes blazing with an unmasked, burning devotion.
“I spent ten years believing that my heart had died the day Caroline and I signed those papers.”
“I thought I was only meant to be a weapon for this city.”
“And then you stood up from beneath that table, holding my daughter's braid, and you gave me a reason to be a man again.”
My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, tears stinging my eyes.
“Come back to me, Luca,” I breathed, resting my hands against the tactical vest over his pounding chest.
“Promise me you will come back alive.”
Luca leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead in a fierce, sacred promise.
“I will burn the West Side to the ground, Emma,” he swore softly against my skin.
“And then I will come home to you.”
He turned on his heel and walked through the heavy front doors into the waiting night.
Within minutes, the convoy roared out of the gates, heading west like a swarm of vengeful shadows.
By two in the morning, the news channels broke into regular programming with urgent breaking reports.
A massive explosion had rocked the central warehouse complex of Bellini Logistics near the shipping canal.
Federal authorities and local police were reporting a total collapse of the Bellini syndicate’s criminal empire.
Don Alberto Bellini had been captured alive in his private office, surrounded by millions of dollars in seized illegal contraband.
Vanessa Bellini had been intercepted at O’Hare International Airport trying to board a private jet to Zurich with stolen bearer bonds.
Both of them were in federal custody, facing thirty years to life on federal racketeering, conspiracy to commit murder, and treason charges.
The Bellini reign of terror was over.
At four in the morning, the sound of a single SUV crunching over the gravel driveway pulled me to the front doors.
The heavy mahogany door swung open.
Luca walked into the foyer, his vest discarded, his white shirt stained with soot and rain.
He stopped when he saw me standing in the center of the hall, waiting for him in the shadows.
He didn't say a single word.
May you like
He closed the distance between us, wrapped his strong arms around my waist, and buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I held him tightly, breathing in the scent of rain, gunpowder, and the man who had fought through hell to return to my side.
