Chapter 5 - The Morning After
Sunlight broke through the Chicago fog at seven in the morning, painting the third-floor suite in shades of pale gold.
When I stepped out of the east wing and descended the grand staircase, the atmosphere in the mansion was entirely transformed. The suffocating tension that had hung over the estate during Vanessa’s reign had evaporated like mist.
In the kitchen, the maids were humming softly as they polished copper pots. Chef Antoine, a temperamental French cook who had spent six months being berated by Vanessa over microscopic carbohydrate counts, had prepared a massive country breakfast of eggs Benedict, crisp bacon, fresh croissants, and freshly squeezed orange juice.
"Ah, Mademoiselle Emma!" Chef Antoine beamed, wiping his hands on a clean white apron as I entered. "Sit, sit! Mr. Moretti instructed that you are not to lift a finger in this kitchen ever again."
"Antoine, please," I said, feeling my cheeks flush with heat. "I'm still Emma. I can pour my own coffee."
"Non! In this house, you are the lady who saved our Bruno," Antoine said firmly, thrusting a plate of hot pastries into my hands. "And more importantly, you are the lady who got rid of the red dragon."
A chorus of quiet chuckles rippled through the staff prep area.
"She's not gone, Antoine," a voice warned from the doorway.
Daniel, the head of security, walked in, wearing his customary dark suit. His expression was grim, holding a fresh Manila folder under his arm. He nodded respectfully toward me.
"Morning, Emma. How's the shoulder?"
"Much better, Daniel. The nurse was wonderful."
"Good. Because the boss wants us in the conservatory in five minutes." Daniel's jaw tightened slightly. "We have a situation developing on the South Side."
My stomach tightened. The illusion of safety that had enveloped me in the third-floor suite suddenly cracked.
I followed Daniel through the sun-drenched corridors into the glass-walled conservatory at the back of the mansion. Exotic orchids and towering ferns filled the space, overlooking the private courtyard where Bruno was currently lying in a patch of morning sunlight, guarded by two armed men who looked more like babysitters than hitmen, tossing him pieces of cooked sausage.
Luca was standing by a marble chess table, dressed in a sharp charcoal three-piece suit. He was on the phone, listening in absolute silence.
As Daniel and I entered, Luca held up a finger, signaling us to wait.
"...Tell Salieri that if a single crate from the western docks is diverted to the Bellini warehouses, I'll shut down the rail lines into Indiana," Luca said into the receiver. His tone was smooth, chillingly polite, and utterly uncompromising. "No, Don Salieri. The engagement is null. Vincent Bellini knows the rules of engagement. He owes me five million for the breach of contract, or he can explain to the Commission why his daughter was forging signatures on state documents."
He hung up without waiting for a reply, tossing the phone onto the chess table.
"Good morning, Emma," Luca said, turning to me. The harsh edge in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by that quiet warmth that made my pulse jump. "Did you sleep?"
"A few hours," I answered. "Luca... what did Daniel mean about a situation?"
Luca gestured for us to sit at the wrought-iron table. Daniel opened the Manila folder, sliding three glossy surveillance photographs across the glass.
My eyes widened as I looked at the images.
The first photo showed Vanessa Bellini stepping out of her black town car outside an abandoned brick warehouse near the Calumet River. The second showed her meeting with a man in an expensive navy overcoat—a man whose face was heavily scarred along the left cheek.
The third photograph was the one that made my blood run cold.
It was a telephoto shot of an apartment building. A modest, two-story brick walk-up with a green awning.
My mother’s apartment in Bridgeport.
"She didn't go back to her father's estate in Lake Forest," Daniel explained, his voice low and heavy. "She went straight to Lorenzo 'The Viper' Varga. He runs the rogue enforcement crews on the South Side. They're independent contractors who handle wet work when the main families don't want their hands dirty."
My hands began to shake against the edge of the glass table. "My mother... they know where she lives?"
Luca reached across the table and placed his hand firmly over mine. The sheer heat and steadiness of his touch anchored me, stopping the tremor instantly.
"Your mother was moved at four this morning, Emma," Luca said calmly.
I blinked, looking up at him in shock. "What?"
"Daniel sent a medical transport team with two unmarked security vehicles," Luca explained. "Your mother was safely relocated to a private recovery villa in Lake Geneva. She has a personal physician, two private nurses, and around-the-clock protection. She's currently sitting on a sun porch eating blueberry pancakes."
Relief washed over me so violently that a choked sob caught in my throat. I looked down at his large hand covering mine, overwhelmed by the realization that while I had been sleeping in silk sheets, this man had been dismantling every trap my enemies could have set for me.
"Why?" I asked, looking into his eyes. "Why go this far for me?"
Luca didn't pull his hand away. In fact, his thumb brushed softly across the back of my knuckles, right in front of his head of security.
"Because whoever threatens you is threatening me," Luca said, his voice dropping an octave, ringing with an undeniable finality. "Vanessa made this personal the moment she used your blood to justify killing my dog. But now she’s made a fatal error."
"What error?" Daniel asked, leaning forward.
"She went to Lorenzo Varga," Luca said, a cold, predatory smirk touching his lips. "Lorenzo has been looking for an excuse to challenge my control over the river district for three years. He thinks Vanessa has given him leverage. He thinks that by targeting Emma, he can force me to negotiate a territorial concession."
Luca stood up, buttoning his jacket, the predator fully awakened behind his eyes.
"Daniel, call the captains. We're having a sit-down at noon at the Palmer House."
"And what about Vanessa?" Daniel asked.
May you like
Luca looked toward the courtyard, watching Bruno stretch lazily in the grass.
"Vanessa wanted a war," Luca whispered. "Let's make sure she gets one she can't survive."
