Chapter 6 - The Woman in the Red Dress
The heavy oak door rattled as someone turned the handle from the outside.
It was locked, but the sound sent a spike of pure terror through my chest.
“Open the door, Hannah.”
Vanessa’s voice was disturbingly calm. Too calm for a woman whose engagement had been publicly shattered hours earlier.
I gripped the heavy brass candlestick tighter, my palms sweating. I stepped backward, positioning myself squarely in front of the bed where my mother was just starting to stir from her exhausted sleep.
“Go away, Vanessa!” I yelled, trying to project a confidence I didn’t feel. “The guards are coming back!”
A low, cruel laugh echoed through the thick wood.
“The guards are dead, you stupid girl,” Vanessa said. “Now open the door before I shoot the lock and put a bullet in your stomach.”
My breath caught. She had a gun.
“Hannah?” my mother whispered, sitting up groggily. “What’s happening?”
“Mom, get down on the floor. Behind the bed,” I ordered, keeping my eyes fixed on the doorknob.
“Who is out there?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice as she slid off the mattress.
Before I could answer, a deafening CRACK split the air.
The wood around the deadbolt splintered as a bullet tore through the lock. I screamed, covering my ears.
A second shot blew the latch completely off the frame.
The heavy door swung open, hitting the wall with a resounding thud.
Vanessa Bellini stepped into the room.
She was still wearing her fitted red silk gown, but the elegant facade was completely gone. Her hair was messy, her makeup smeared, and in her right hand, she held a sleek, black, silenced pistol.
She leveled the gun directly at my chest.
“Put the candlestick down, Hannah,” Vanessa sneered. “Unless you think you can swing faster than I can pull a trigger.”
My hands shook violently. I looked at the dark muzzle of the gun, then at my mother huddled behind the bed.
Slowly, I lowered the candlestick to the floor.
“Good girl,” Vanessa mocked. She stepped further into the room, kicking the door shut behind her.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Luca threw you out. You have no power here anymore.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed with a manic, furious energy.
“Luca threw me out because of you and his pathetic mother,” she spat, pacing slightly. “My father is bankrupt! The Volkovs are going to kill him by the end of the week if we don’t pay them three million dollars!”
“So you teamed up with Arthur Vance?” I realized, the pieces finally snapping together in my mind.
Vanessa smiled, a cold, predatory curve of her lips.
“Arthur approached my father a month ago,” Vanessa explained, enjoying the reveal. “He knew my father was desperate. Arthur told us he had leverage over the Morettis—a secret heir. But Arthur needed someone on the inside to confirm the boy’s existence and keep Teresa isolated so she couldn’t warn Luca.”
“You helped him kidnap my brother,” I breathed, the hatred overriding my fear.
“I did what I had to do to save my family,” Vanessa snapped, aiming the gun closer to my face. “Arthur promised that once he extorted the Bellini territory from Luca, he would pay off my father’s debt to the Russians.”
“But Arthur failed,” I said. “Luca didn’t sign over the territory. He went to the South Side to kill Arthur.”
Vanessa laughed. It was a harsh, bitter sound.
“You really think Arthur is waiting at the casino on Halsted Street?” she mocked. “He’s not an idiot. He knew Luca would come out with guns blazing. That’s why Arthur sent a decoy team to the casino to keep Luca and his men busy.”
My stomach plummeted. “Then where is Arthur?”
“He’s on his way here,” Vanessa smiled triumphantly.
I froze. “Here? The estate is on lockdown.”
“The lockdown doesn’t matter when the internal security is dead,” Vanessa pointed out, gesturing to the hallway with her gun. “I took out the two guards on this floor. I disabled the alarm on the East Wing service door. Arthur is pulling up to the back gate right now.”
“Why is he coming here?” my mother cried from behind the bed. “He already has Leo!”
Vanessa looked at my mother, her eyes narrowing with disgust.
“Because Arthur doesn’t just want the territory anymore, Clara,” Vanessa sneered. “He wants revenge. He wants to execute the woman who left him, and he wants to do it in the Don’s own house to prove a point.”
My blood ran cold.
This wasn’t a kidnapping for leverage anymore. This was an assassination.
“And what do you get out of this?” I asked Vanessa, desperate to keep her talking, praying Luca would realize the trap and turn back.
“I get the safe,” Vanessa stated flatly. “While Arthur kills you two, he’s going to blow the safe in Luca’s study. There’s five million in untraceable cash in there. Enough to pay off my father’s debt and get us out of the country.”
She checked her diamond-encrusted watch.
“He should be coming through the service door right about...”
A heavy, metallic thud echoed from the floor below us.
Vanessa’s smile widened. “Now.”
Footsteps pounded on the grand staircase. Not one man, but several. Heavy, tactical boots stomping against the marble.
“Move away from the bed,” Vanessa ordered me, waving the gun. “Get against the wall. Both of you.”
I didn’t move. I stood firmly between my mother and the woman in the red dress.
“No,” I said softly.
Vanessa frowned, her patience snapping. “I said move, you little brat, or I’ll shoot you in the knee right now.”
Before I could answer, a shadow appeared in the hallway outside our shattered door.
A massive figure stepped into the doorway.
It wasn’t Arthur Vance.
It was Marco.
The head of security was covered in dirt and rain, his suit jacket torn, but his assault rifle was raised and pointed directly at Vanessa’s head.
“Drop the weapon, Miss Bellini,” Marco growled, his voice a lethal, vibrating bass.
Vanessa gasped, spinning around and aiming her pistol at Marco.
“How are you here?!” she shrieked in panic. “You’re supposed to be at the casino!”
Behind Marco, the towering, terrifying figure of Luca Moretti stepped into the light. His dark suit was damp, his eyes burning with a fury so intense it made the air in the room feel heavy.
“Did you really think I’d leave my own home undefended, Vanessa?” Luca asked quietly.
Vanessa’s hands shook wildly. She pointed the gun back at me, then at Luca, trapped like a rat.
“Arthur is supposed to be here!” Vanessa screamed, hysterical.
“Arthur is dead,” Luca said bluntly.
My heart leapt into my throat.
“Dead?” Vanessa whispered, the color draining from her face.
“He sent a decoy team to the casino,” Luca explained, taking a slow step into the room. “But Arthur underestimated my resources. We tracked his burner phone. He wasn’t coming here to kill Clara. He was waiting at an airstrip in Gary, Indiana, waiting for you to bring him the cash from my safe.”
Vanessa staggered backward. “No... no, that’s a lie.”
“He played you, Vanessa,” Luca said coldly. “He used you to clear the estate so he could flee with the ransom money. But my men found him before he boarded his plane.”
Luca reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, blue child’s sneaker.
He tossed it onto the floor at Vanessa’s feet.
“We got the boy,” Luca stated.
Tears of pure, overwhelming relief flooded my eyes. My mother let out a loud, breathless sob from behind the bed.
Leo was safe.
Vanessa stared at the little shoe on the floor. Her entire plan—her family’s salvation—had just crumbled into dust.
She let out a primal scream of frustration and raised her gun, aiming it squarely at Luca’s chest.
“I’ll kill you!” she shrieked.
BANG.
The gunshot deafened the room.
But it wasn’t Vanessa who fired.
Vanessa dropped her pistol, clutching her right shoulder as a blossom of dark blood exploded across the red silk of her gown. She collapsed to her knees, screaming in agony.
Marco lowered his smoking rifle.
Luca didn’t even flinch. He walked slowly over to Vanessa, looking down at her with absolute, merciless authority.
“I told you to leave this house,” Luca whispered.
He looked at Marco.
“Take her to the basement holding cell. Let her bleed for an hour. Then call the Volkovs. Tell them the Bellini debt is their problem now.”
Marco grabbed Vanessa by her uninjured arm and dragged her sobbing, bleeding body out of the room.
The moment they were gone, the terrifying Don vanished.
Luca holstered his weapon and turned to me.
He didn’t say a word. He just opened his arms.
I ran to him, burying my face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as the adrenaline finally crashed. Luca held me tightly, his strong hand stroking my hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
“You’re safe,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ve got you.”
Before I could pull away, a small, tentative voice echoed from the hallway.
“Mommy?”
My mother scrambled up from behind the bed.
Standing in the doorway, holding the hand of one of Luca’s guards, was a five-year-old boy. He had messy brown hair, big hazel eyes, and he was missing one of his blue sneakers.
“Leo!” my mother cried, rushing forward and dropping to her knees.
She pulled the little boy into her arms, weeping as she kissed his face a hundred times.
I stepped back, leaning against Luca, watching my family reunite.
But as Leo hugged my mother, the little boy looked up over her shoulder. He locked eyes with Luca.
Leo tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Are you my daddy?” Leo asked.
Luca went completely still.
He slowly knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with the child who bore his dead brother’s face.
“No, Leo,” Luca said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m your uncle Luca. But I promise you, as long as I am alive, you will never be afraid again.”
Leo smiled, a small, innocent grin.
Then, the little boy reached into the pocket of his jeans.
“The bad man told me to give this to you,” Leo said, holding out a small, folded piece of paper.
Luca frowned. He took the paper from the child.
He unfolded it.
I watched Luca’s face change from relief to absolute, unadulterated horror.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping closer.
Luca didn’t answer. He turned the paper around so I could see it.
It was a printed bank statement.
Showing a transfer of ten million dollars from the Moretti family’s offshore accounts.
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And the signature authorizing the transfer... belonged to Teresa Moretti.
“My mother,” Luca breathed, the betrayal hitting him like a freight train. “My mother paid Arthur Vance.”
