Chapter 8 - THE POISONED INVITATION
The drive back to the Moretti estate was the longest twenty minutes of my life.
None of us spoke.
The only sound was the heavy rain drumming against the roof of the SUV and Lily’s soft, even breathing as she slept in Teresa’s arms.
I stared out the window at the blurry streetlights.
I was just a maid.
Yesterday, my biggest worry had been saving enough money from my paycheck to buy my mother the good brand of orthopedic pain relief.
Now, I was riding in a car with a disgraced mafia boss, his rogue brother, and a secret child, heading toward a heavily guarded mansion to stop a hostile takeover.
Michael caught my eye in the rearview mirror.
He didn’t smile, but he gave me a small, reassuring nod.
It grounded me.
We parked half a mile down the road from the main gates, hidden beneath the thick canopy of oak trees.
Luca turned off the headlights.
Through the trees, we could see the mansion blazing with light.
Dozens of black SUVs were parked on the lawn.
Armed men in tactical gear were patrolling the perimeter, far outnumbering the original security detail.
“She’s locked it down,” Michael observed, checking the safety on his own weapon. “There are at least thirty guys out there. We can’t just walk through the front door, Luca.”
“I know the security blind spots,” Luca said coldly. “We use the old servant tunnels beneath the greenhouse.”
I spoke up before I could lose my nerve.
“They know you’ll use the tunnels,” I said.
Both men looked at me.
“Vanessa knows you better than anyone,” I explained, my voice trembling but clear. “She knows you know the house. She’ll have the tunnels guarded.”
Luca frowned. “Then how do we get inside?”
I took a deep breath.
“I go through the front gates.”
“Absolutely not,” Michael snapped instantly.
“Listen to me,” I argued, turning fully toward them. “Vanessa fired me in front of everyone. She thinks I’m a terrified, broke girl who just lost her job. If I walk up to the gates crying, asking for my final paycheck, her men won’t shoot me. They’ll laugh at me.”
“It’s too dangerous, Hannah,” Luca said.
“My mother is in there!” I fired back, tears finally breaking through. “Isabella is in there! If you go in guns blazing, Vanessa will execute them in the basement!”
Silence filled the car.
Teresa reached over and squeezed my shoulder.
“She’s right, Luca,” the old woman whispered. “Hannah is invisible to them. She’s the only one who can get inside the walls without triggering an alarm.”
Luca hated it. I could see it in his eyes.
But he nodded slowly.
“You get inside,” Luca instructed, his voice dead serious. “You go straight to the breaker room in the east wing. You cut the main power. The backup generators take exactly ninety seconds to kick in.”
“Ninety seconds of pure darkness,” Michael added. “That’s our window to breach the perimeter.”
I nodded, wiping my face.
I stepped out of the car into the freezing rain.
I didn’t wear a coat. I needed to look pathetic. I needed to look desperate.
I walked up the long, winding road toward the glowing iron gates.
Two massive men with assault rifles stepped into the road, shining blinding flashlights into my eyes.
“Hold it right there!” one of them barked.
I threw my hands up, forcing myself to sob loudly.
“Please!” I cried, shivering violently in my soaked maid’s uniform. “I just need my money! Ms. Bellini fired me, but I need my last paycheck! My mom is sick!”
The guards exchanged a look.
One of them smirked and lowered his weapon.
“It’s the cleaning girl,” he laughed into his radio. “Open the side gate. Let’s see what the boss wants to do with her.”
The heavy iron gate clicked open.
I walked through, keeping my head down, playing the part of a broken servant perfectly.
They escorted me up the driveway and through the grand front doors.
The ballroom was completely transformed.
The wealthy guests were gone, replaced by armed mercenaries drinking Luca’s expensive champagne.
Vanessa was standing on the grand staircase, wearing a crown of diamonds, looking down at me like a queen surveying a peasant.
“Well, well,” Vanessa sneered. “Look what the rain washed in.”
“Please, Ms. Bellini,” I begged, dropping to my knees on the marble floor. “I just want my money.”
Vanessa laughed, descending the stairs slowly.
“You are pathetic, Hannah,” she spat, stopping just a few feet away from me. “Your mother raised a weak, sniveling little—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence.
Because I didn’t just drop to my knees to beg.
May you like
I dropped to my knees to grab the heavy brass fire poker resting against the massive stone fireplace.
And before anyone could raise a weapon, I swung it as hard as I could, shattering the main electrical panel on the wall.
