Chapter 6 - Betrayal from Within
Through the thick ballistic glass, I couldn't hear the words being spoken, but the horrific pantomime of power and retribution was crystal clear.
Vanessa scrambled backward across the plush carpet, her manic arrogance entirely shattered. Her designer boots kicked frantically against the fallen bedside lamp, sending shards of glass skittering across the floor. She held her hands up, her lips moving rapidly in desperate, pleading apologies.
Luca didn't hurry. He walked toward her with the slow, terrifying inevitability of a tidal wave.
He stopped when his polished leather shoes touched the hem of her coat. Slowly, he bent down, caught the collar of her trench coat in his left hand, and lifted her off the floor as if she weighed nothing at all.
Her feet dangled several inches above the ground, her hands clawing desperately at his iron grip.
Luca leaned in, whispering something into her ear. Whatever words left his lips caused Vanessa’s face to twist into an expression of sheer, existential horror. She shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her cheeks, her mouth opening in silent shrieks of agony.
With a flick of his wrist, Luca threw her across the room.
She slammed into the wall, sliding down into a heap of weeping ruin.
Luca didn't look at her again. He turned toward the reinforced panic room, tapped a five-digit code into the digital keypad beside the frame, and pulled the titanium door open.
The pneumatic seal hissed. The metallic scent of blood and gunpowder flooded into our small sanctuary.
“Luca!” I cried, rushing out of the panic room.
He immediately raised his hand to stop me, his dark eyes wide with concern. “Don't look, Hannah. Keep Lily inside.”
I didn't care about the bodies on the floor. I didn't care about the shattered furniture or the smoke hanging in the air. All I saw was the crimson stain soaking through the left shoulder of his white shirt.
“You’re shot,” I gasped, reaching for him. My hands hovered over the torn fabric, terrified to hurt him.
“A graze,” he muttered dismissively, though his breathing was shallow. “The bullet passed through the flesh. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” I scolded, the fear turning instantly into fierce, protective anger. I grabbed a clean linen towel from the vanity counter and pressed it firmly against his shoulder.
Luca winced slightly, his jaw tightening, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he looked down at me, his dark eyes softening with an intensity that made the surrounding carnage fade into total insignificance.
“You’re scolding me,” he whispered, a faint, breathless smile touching his lips. “I just killed two Donati assassins, and you are scolding me for a scratch.”
“Because you’re an idiot,” I sobbed, tears finally breaking through my defenses as I pressed the cloth against his wound. “You could have died out there.”
“I have too much to live for now,” Luca said quietly.
His right hand rose, his fingers tangling into the loose strands of my brown hair, gently pulling my face closer until our foreheads touched. His breath was warm, smelling of peppermint and adrenaline. For a heartbeat, the entire universe stopped spinning. I felt the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm, and for the first time in my twenty-five years of broken existence, I felt utterly, completely cherished.
“Luca…” Vanessa’s pathetic whimper from the corner shattered the moment.
Luca’s expression instantly turned back to stone. Without breaking physical contact with me, he turned his head toward the disgraced woman on the floor.
“Vincenzo,” Luca called out.
Vincenzo stepped through the shattered doorway, his tactical vest splattered with gray dust, his rifle slung over his shoulder. “The tunnels are cleared, boss. Seven dead, three captured. Marco Donati fled in his armored convoy when the perimeter charges detonated.”
“And Charles Whitmore?” Luca asked.
“We found him locked in Donati’s rear chase vehicle,” Vincenzo smirked darkly. “Donati abandoned him the second our snipers took out their lead engine block. Charles is in zip-ties in the courtyard, begging for an ambulance.”
Luca nodded slowly. “Bring Vanessa down to join him.”
“No! Luca, please!” Vanessa shrieked as Vincenzo grabbed her arms, hoisting her up without ceremony. “My father will give you whatever you want! Half the eastern territory! Just let me go to Europe! You can’t put me in a cell with Charles!”
Luca looked at her with pure, unadulterated disgust.
“You will not be going to a cell, Vanessa,” Luca said coldly. “You and Charles will be delivered to the Federal Detention Center in downtown Chicago within the hour.”
Vanessa froze, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. “Federal? You… you’re handing us to the FBI? You’re a Moretti! You don't involve the feds!”
“I don't need to get my hands dirty to destroy you,” Luca said smoothly. “The flash drive in my safe contains every financial ledger your father kept for twenty years, along with the encrypted records of Charles’s offshore laundering for Donati. By sunrise, the Bellini syndicate will be dismantled by the United States Department of Justice, and you and Charles will spend the next thirty years in a federal penitentiary for child trafficking, interstate kidnapping, and corporate extortion.”
Vanessa’s knees gave out. Vincenzo dragged her limp, sobbing form out of the bedroom, her designer coat trailing through the dust of her own ruined ambition.
When the hallway fell silent once more, Luca turned back to me.
The adrenaline was finally fading, leaving his face pale. He leaned heavily against the closet frame, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth as the pain in his shoulder caught up with him.
“Sit down,” I ordered, grabbing his good arm and guiding him toward the uninjured side of the king bed. “Sit down before you collapse.”
Luca chuckled weakly, allowing me to push him onto the edge of the mattress. “You are far too bossy for a maid, Hannah Brooks.”
“I resigned five minutes ago,” I said softly, kneeling between his knees with a first-aid kit I had grabbed from the panic room wall.
Lily peeked her head out of the titanium door, clutching Barnaby. “Mommy? Is the bad lady gone?”
“Yes, baby,” I smiled through my tears, looking back at my daughter. “She’s gone. She’s never coming back.”
Lily walked out, her small steps hesitant as she looked at Luca sitting on the bed. She walked up beside him, reached out her tiny hand, and gently patted his uninjured knee.
“Does your shoulder hurt, Mr. Luca?” she asked sweetly.
Luca looked down at her, his rugged face melting into an expression of such pure, unvarnished devotion that it took my breath away.
“It hurts a little bit, Lily,” Luca admitted softly.
Lily leaned forward and pressed a tiny kiss against the fabric of his torn sleeve. “Mommy says kisses make the boo-boos go away.”
Luca’s breath hitched. A heavy swallow moved down his throat as his dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He reached out, his large, scarred hand gently cupping the back of Lily’s head.
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“It worked,” Luca whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “It doesn't hurt at all anymore.”
***