The clock on the dashboard read 10:22 p.m.
Luca drove his black SUV through the rain-slicked Chicago streets at eighty miles an hour. I sat in the passenger seat, still in my torn uniform, clutching Bruno’s blue blanket against my chest. Neither of us had spoken since we left the mansion.
We didn’t need to. The silence was heavy with a terrifying question: Were we already too late?
«Call them again,» Luca ordered, his voice dangerously calm.
I hit redial on his phone. It rang five times. «Still going to voicemail,» I whispered.
Luca’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. Ten minutes later, the tires screeched as we swerved into the parking lot of the Westside Veterinary Clinic.
The front lobby was completely dark. My heart sank. But a sliver of light shone from beneath the back door.
Luca didn’t knock. He didn’t check the handle. He simply stepped back and kicked the reinforced door right beside the deadbolt. The wood splintered with a deafening crack, and the door flew open.
«Hey! You can’t be in here!» a young man in green scrubs yelled, dropping a clipboard.
Luca walked straight past him, his eyes scanning the stainless-steel tables. And then we saw him.
Bruno was lying on an examination table in the back room. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was terribly shallow. Beside the table stood a veterinarian, a syringe of pink liquid held in her right hand. The needle hovered just inches from Bruno’s IV line.
«Stop,» Luca said.
It wasn’t a shout. It was a command that sucked all the air out of the room.
The vet froze, her eyes widening as she recognized him. «Mr. Moretti? We… Miss Bellini said you couldn’t bear to be here. She said the aggression had gotten too bad.»
«Get that needle away from my dog,» Luca said.
I rushed forward and wrapped the blue blanket around Bruno. The old dog opened one hazy eye and let out a weak, rattling sigh. I pressed my face into his golden fur. He was warm. He was alive.
The vet backed away, trembling. «I was just following the written authorization. She brought proof of your consent.»
Luca turned his head. «What proof?»
The vet pointed to a metal tray on the counter. «She said you wanted him to have this. To go to sleep with it. She said it was proof you had made the decision together.»
Luca stepped toward the tray. My breath caught.
Resting on the sterile metal was a heavy silver pocket watch. I recognized it immediately; it sat on Luca’s desk every single day.
But Luca didn’t reach for it. He just stared at it, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek.
«Mr. Moretti?» I asked softly.
«That watch,» Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper, «has been locked in my personal safe since this morning.»
A chill ran down my spine. Vanessa hadn’t just taken the dog; she had somehow accessed the mafia boss’s private vault.
«Why would she use that?» I asked.
Luca finally picked up the watch and turned it over. The back casing was popped open, exposing the intricate gears. «Because she was looking for what was hidden inside it.»
He looked at me, his dark eyes entirely changed. «Emma, who else was in the house when you took this job?»
«Just my mother,» I answered, confused. «And my son.»
Luca’s head snapped up. «Your son? You have a child?»
«Leo. He’s six. My mother is watching him tonight.»
My phone buzzed in my hand. I slammed my hand over the microphone. «It’s Vanessa,» I mouthed to Luca, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Luca extended his hand. «Put it on speaker.»
I pressed the button. «What did you do, Vanessa?»
She let out a soft, mocking laugh. «Oh, Emma. So dramatic. I just thought little Leo needed some new clothes. Check his closet.»
I looked at my mother—we weren’t at the apartment anymore, but my mind raced back to the mess on the floor. «I’m not at the apartment,» I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
«I know,» Vanessa replied. Her voice dropped an octave, turning ice-cold. «I know you’re in a car with my fiancé. I know the dog is breathing. You think you’re clever, Emma? You’re a maid. You serve bread.»
Luca leaned closer to the phone. «Vanessa.»
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. She hadn’t expected him to be listening.
«Luca, darling,» she recovered quickly, her tone instantly sweetening. «Why are you with the help? You should be here. Our guests are wondering where you went.»
«What did you leave in the boy’s closet, Vanessa?» Luca asked. His voice was devoid of any emotion, which made it far more terrifying.
«Just a coat, Luca. A beautiful red winter coat. I thought Emma might need it for where she’s going.»
The line went dead.
I looked at Luca, trembling. «A red coat? Why would she leave a coat?»
Luca didn’t answer. He put the SUV in drive and sped back onto the highway, his jaw locked tight.
«Mr. Moretti?» I asked.
«When I was nine years old,» Luca began, his voice hollow, «my mother was kidnapped by a rival family. They held her for three days. My father paid the ransom.» He swallowed hard. «They didn’t give her back. They left her in an alley in the snow. She was wearing a red winter coat.»
My hand flew to my mouth. Vanessa wasn’t just threatening me; she was mocking the deepest trauma of Luca’s life.
We arrived at the secure underground garage of Luca’s downtown penthouse. His private security team was already waiting, and heavily armed men escorted us up the private elevator. The penthouse was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chicago skyline.
«Take the guest rooms,» Luca told my mother. «Daniel will bring you anything you need.»
Leo was exhausted. I carried him to a plush bedroom and tucked him under the heavy duvet. Bruno limped in right behind us and collapsed at the foot of the bed, refusing to leave the boy.
When I walked back out to the living room, Luca was standing by the glass windows, pouring a glass of whiskey. He looked exhausted. The polished mafia boss from the dinner party was gone, replaced by a man holding the weight of a betrayal he was just beginning to uncover.
«Emma,» he said without turning around. «Come here.»
I walked over. My shoulder throbbed where the uniform was still torn.
«She planted my mother’s murder weapon,» Luca said quietly, staring out at the city lights.
«What?»
He turned to face me. «The police never found the red coat my mother was wearing when she died. It was taken by the killers as a trophy. If Vanessa put it in your apartment…»
«Then her family killed your mother,» I whispered.
Luca nodded once. «And she was going to tip off the police tonight. Have them raid your apartment. They would find my mother’s coat, and the fake ledger she planted in my safe, tying you to the stolen four million.»
I felt the room spin. «She was framing me for everything. To get rid of me before the wedding.»
«Yes.» Luca set the glass down. He reached out and gently touched my uninjured shoulder. His hands were warm. «But she made one mistake, Emma.»
«What?»
«She didn’t realize that I don’t care about the money,» Luca said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. «And she didn’t realize that I would tear this city apart before I let anyone hurt you.»
Before I could process the intensity in his eyes, his phone rang. It was Daniel.
«Boss,» the security chief said. «We have a problem.»
«What is it?»
«The red coat wasn’t in the apartment.»
Luca frowned. «What do you mean?»
«We tossed the whole place. There’s no coat. But we found something else hidden in the drywall behind the boy’s closet.»
The next morning, the penthouse was buzzing with silent efficiency.
Daniel and three bodyguards had fortified the floor. My mother was resting on the sofa, watching cartoons with Leo, while Bruno slept contentedly at their feet.
I stood in the guest bedroom, staring at myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. I was no longer wearing a torn maid’s uniform. Luca had sent a seamstress early in the morning, and I was dressed in a sleek, midnight-blue evening gown. My hair was swept up, and the scrape on my shoulder was carefully covered by a silk shawl.
I didn’t look like Emma Collins, the server. I looked like a woman who belonged in Luca’s world.
The door clicked open, and Luca stepped in. He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looking breathtaking, dangerous, and completely untouchable. He stopped when he saw me. For a long moment, the ruthless boss disappeared, replaced by a man genuinely struck by what was in front of him.
«You look…» He cleared his throat. «You look beautiful, Emma.»
«I look like a target,» I said nervously, clutching the silk shawl.
He walked slowly toward me, stopping just inches away. Reaching into his tuxedo pocket, he pulled out a delicate diamond necklace. «Turn around,» he instructed softly.
I turned. He swept my hair aside, his fingers brushing against my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. He clasped the cold diamonds around my throat.
«You are under my protection,» Luca whispered near my ear. «Today, you don’t serve anyone. You walk into that cathedral, and you stand tall.»
I turned back to face him, our chests almost touching. «What happens when she sees me, Luca? She tried to blow up my apartment. If she sees I’m alive…»
«She will panic,» Luca finished for me. «And when people like Vanessa panic, they make mistakes.»
He checked his watch. 1:00 p.m. The ceremony was at two.
«The news of your apartment building hasn’t hit the press yet,» Luca explained, stepping back. «I had my men intercept the police scanners. We bribed the responding officers to keep it quiet. Vanessa believes her man handled it, but she’s waiting for confirmation.»
«And the man who planted the bomb?»
«He’s currently in the trunk of Daniel’s car,» Luca said coldly. «He was very cooperative after a brief conversation.»
A chill ran through me—a stark reminder of who Luca really was. But looking at him now, I didn’t feel afraid. I felt safe.
We left the penthouse at 1:30 p.m., while my mother and Leo stayed behind under heavy guard.
The drive to Holy Name Cathedral was a blur of anxiety. The streets were lined with expensive cars and private security, and the entire Chicago mafia, along with the Bellini syndicate from New York, was inside.
«Ready?» Luca asked as the SUV idled by the side entrance.
«No,» I admitted.
He smiled—a genuine, warm expression—and took my hand, squeezing it. «Good. Use the fear.»
He stepped out and walked toward the front entrance to play his part as the waiting groom. I slipped through the side door with Daniel.
The cathedral was magnificent, echoing with organ music and the murmurs of four hundred dangerous guests. I waited in the shadows near the sacristy.
At exactly 2:00 p.m., the music changed. The massive wooden doors at the back opened.
Vanessa Bellini stepped into the aisle. She wore a custom white lace gown, dripping in diamonds, with a triumphant smile plastered on her face. She looked like a queen stepping up to claim her throne, soaking in the admiration as she walked slowly down the aisle.
Luca stood at the altar, his face unreadable. As Vanessa reached the front, she handed her bouquet to her maid of honor and turned to smile at Luca.
«You look handsome, darling,» she whispered, her voice carrying slightly in the quiet church.
«You look victorious, Vanessa,» Luca replied loudly enough for the front rows to hear.
Her smile faltered slightly. «It’s our wedding day. Of course I am.»
The priest stepped forward to begin, but Luca raised a hand, stopping him. A murmur rippled through the pews, and the Bellini family patriarchs in the front row shifted uncomfortably.
«Before we begin,» Luca’s voice echoed through the cathedral, deep and commanding, «my bride was very concerned about my staff last night. She was worried about a young maid who scratched her shoulder.»
Vanessa’s face went completely white.
«I just wanted to assure you, my love,» Luca said, his eyes locking onto hers with terrifying intensity. «She’s perfectly fine.»
Luca nodded toward the sacristy. My heart hammered against my ribs.
I stepped out of the shadows and walked directly up the altar steps. The entire cathedral gasped.
Vanessa stumbled backward, stepping on her own dress. Her eyes were wide with pure, unfiltered terror as she stared at me—the woman she thought she had murdered twelve hours ago.
