Chapter 4 - Fortress of Stone
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The rain had turned into a torrential downpour by the time our three black armored SUVs pulled through the reinforced iron gates.
The Oak Brook estate was not an ostentatious ballroom mansion like the city property where the engagement party had collapsed.
It was a secluded, stone-built fortress surrounded by ten-foot security walls, towering ancient oaks, and sophisticated infrared cameras.
Dozens of armed security guards in plain black tactical gear lined the long gravel driveway.
Marco helped the private medical team transfer Rosa from the mobile transport stretcher into a fully equipped ground-floor suite.
Two private nurses and a trusted family cardiologist were already waiting inside to monitor her vitals around the clock.
Once Rosa was comfortably tucked into bed with an oxygen concentrator humming steadily beside her, Luca led me into the main library.
A roaring fire burned inside a massive limestone hearth, casting flickering golden shadows across shelves lined with thousands of leather-bound books.
I sank onto a deep velvet armchair, my legs trembling from sheer physical and emotional exhaustion.
My emerald evening dress was stained with rainwater and dirt along the hemline.
Luca walked over to a polished mahogany sideboard and poured two fingers of amber bourbon into a heavy crystal glass.
He walked across the Persian rug and handed the glass to me.
“Drink it,” he said quietly, his voice softer than I had ever heard it before.
“It will stop the shaking in your hands.”
I took the glass and took a small sip, feeling the fiery warmth bloom down my throat and settle the knot in my stomach.
“Thank you,” I whispered, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
Luca didn't sit down; he paced in front of the crackling fireplace, his jaw tight and brooding.
“The police arrested Vivienne three hours ago at the estate,” he said, breaking the heavy silence.
“Her lawyer arrived before the ink was even dry on the booking sheet.”
“Julian Vale has already pulled strings with the magistrate to post her bail under house arrest.”
I set the crystal glass down on the side table with a sharp clink.
“She tried to let your grandmother suffocate to death right in front of two hundred guests, Luca!”
“How can money buy her a walk out of a holding cell that quickly?”
“Because the Vale family owns half the judicial committee in Cook County,” Luca answered bitterly.
“They have spent thirty years building an untouchable political façade while burying their blood money beneath non-profit foundations.”
Suddenly, my phone on the table began chiming incessantly with incoming notifications.
I picked it up and unlocked the screen, watching dozens of social media alerts and text messages flood my inbox.
“What is it?” Luca asked, noticing the color drain from my face.
“Look at this,” I said, turning the phone toward him with shaking fingers.
Vivienne’s public relations firm had already launched a vicious, perfectly timed smear campaign across every major social media platform.
A blurry video clip taken from the engagement party was circulating rapidly, showing me kneeling beside Rosa while Vivienne cried in the background.
The sensational headline read: “TRAGEDY AT THE MORETTI ENGAGEMENT: UNSTABLE CAREGIVER ACCUSED OF MANIPULATING ELDERLY MATRIARCH TO SABOTAGE HIGH-SOCIETY WEDDING.”
Beneath the headline were fabricated quotes claiming I had hidden Rosa’s medication myself to frame Vivienne out of jealousy and greed.
Comments from thousands of online strangers were pouring in every second, calling me an opportunist, a gold-digger, and a criminal.
“She’s trying to destroy your credibility before you can testify in court,” Luca snarled, his eyes flashing with lethal fury.
“She wants the public to believe you are an erratic, conniving liar who set her up.”
“My aunt June...” I whispered, terror gripping my chest like a vise.
“If they find out where my family lives, they will go after her next.”
Luca crossed the space between us in two long strides and knelt down directly in front of my chair.
He reached up and took both of my trembling hands into his large, warm palms, forcing me to look directly into his eyes.
“Listen to me very carefully, Elena,” he said, his voice completely calm, steady, and resolute.
“Nobody is going to touch your aunt June.”
“Marco dispatched four of our best security operatives to her home in Evanston twenty minutes ago.”
“She is already being escorted to a secure hotel suite under round-the-clock protection.”
The genuine earnestness in his gaze made the breath catch in my throat.
In the criminal underworld of Chicago, Luca Moretti was known as an unforgiving, cold-blooded kingpin whom men feared to cross.
Yet here he was, kneeling before a humble companion, shielding my family with the same ferocity he showed his own blood.
“Why are you protecting me like this?” I asked in a small, vulnerable voice.
Luca didn't look away; his thumb gently brushed across the back of my knuckles.
“Because when everyone else in that ballroom was paralyzed by fear or social etiquette, you fought for my grandmother with your bare hands.”
“You didn’t bow to Vivienne’s threats, and you didn’t abandon Rosa when things became dangerous.”
“You showed more honor and loyalty in seven minutes than Vivienne Vale showed in seven years.”
A heavy, charged silence filled the library as our eyes remained locked together.
Before either of us could say another word, the heavy wooden bookshelf behind Luca’s mahogany desk groaned softly.
A hidden latch inside the carved woodwork popped open, revealing a dark, concealed staircase leading beneath the mansion.
Luca stood up instantly, his hand dropping to the holster concealed inside his jacket.
May you like
“Stay behind me, Elena,” he commanded, stepping toward the shadow of the doorway.
“The secret vaults beneath this house haven't been opened since my father died.”
