Chapter 6 - The Betrayal And The Safe House
“She said your father ordered the hit on Michael Collins.”
The freezing wind whipping off Lake Michigan seemed to completely stop. The words hung in the air, toxic and devastating.
I stared at Marco, my mind completely unable to process what he had just said. Michael had died of a heart attack. The doctors had confirmed it. I had buried him.
“You’re lying,” Daniel shouted, his voice cracking as he stepped toward the head chef. “My dad died of a heart attack! He was sick!”
“He wasn't sick, Daniel,” Marco said softly, tears welling in his weathered eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn't know the truth until tonight. I swear to you.”
Luca looked like he had been physically struck. The color completely drained from his face. He staggered backward, resting his hand against the cold metal railing of the pier.
“My father?” Luca whispered, the shock paralyzing him. “My father ordered the hit on his own Underboss? On his best friend?”
“Vanessa swore to it,” Marco nodded grimly. “She said her father had wiretaps on the restaurant five years ago. He recorded your father giving the order. Carlo has been holding onto the recording as blackmail material in case you ever tried to move against him.”
My stomach churned violently. I looked at Luca, the man I had sought comfort from just moments ago, the man who had promised to protect us. His father—the man he revered, the man whose legacy he was fiercely defending tonight—had murdered my husband.
“Why?” I cried, tears of pure betrayal streaming down my face. “Why would he kill Michael? Michael was fiercely loyal to him!”
Luca slowly turned to look at me, his dark eyes filled with a profound, agonizing agony.
“Because Michael stole the Bellini ledger,” Luca realized, the horrifying puzzle finally clicking together. “Michael didn't steal it to give to my father. He stole it to leverage his way out of the life. He wanted to take you and Daniel and disappear. He wanted to use the ledger as an insurance policy to ensure neither the Bellinis nor the Morettis ever hunted him down.”
“He wanted out,” I sobbed, remembering the late nights Michael had spent pacing our tiny kitchen, looking exhausted and terrified.
“And my father couldn't allow a man with all our secrets to just walk away,” Luca finished, his voice dropping into a hollow, devastated whisper. “My father didn't kill him out of malice. He killed him to protect the family’s security. He made it look like a heart attack so you wouldn't ask questions, and he let you keep working here to keep you close. To keep an eye on you.”
The sickening realization washed over me.
My employment at the Moretti estate hadn't been an act of generosity. The extra shifts, the kind words from Isabella, Luca’s father paying for Michael’s funeral—it was all a grotesque, twisted form of surveillance. They were keeping the grieving widow trapped in their house, just in case she ever found the ledger.
“You knew,” Daniel snarled, stepping toward Luca, his hands balled into tight fists.
“Daniel, no, I swear on my life I didn't know,” Luca pleaded, holding his hands up defensively. “My father died a year after Michael. He took that secret to his grave. I honestly believed Michael died of a heart attack. I loved your father, Daniel.”
“Don't talk about my father!” Daniel screamed, tears of pure fury rolling down his young face. “Your family murdered him! You kept my mom scrubbing your floors for minimum wage while you lived in a mansion paid for with his blood!”
Daniel turned and ran.
He sprinted back up the wooden pier, ignoring the shouts from Marco and the guards. He threw the leather recipe book onto the wooden planks and bolted into the dark, freezing streets of Chicago.
“Daniel! Wait!” I screamed, trying to run after him.
Luca caught me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, pulling me back as I thrashed wildly.
“Let me go!” I sobbed, hitting his chest. “I have to get my son!”
“You can't go after him on foot, Sarah!” Luca yelled over my cries, holding me tight. “Vanessa’s men are still out there! If you run into the streets, they will kill you! Let my men find him!”
Luca turned to Marco. “Send three cars. Do not let Daniel out of your sight. Bring him to the safe house on the South Side. If anyone touches a hair on his head, I will personally end them.”
Marco nodded sharply and sprinted toward the SUVs.
I slumped against Luca, completely broken. My husband was murdered. My son was running through the streets alone, hating the man who was currently holding me up.
Luca gently picked me up, ignoring the freezing wind, and carried me to the remaining armored SUV. He placed me in the backseat, sliding in right beside me. He didn't try to hug me again. He knew the chasm that had just violently ripped open between us.
“Drive to the South Side safe house,” Luca ordered his driver, Leo, his voice utterly devoid of emotion.
The ride was agonizingly silent. I stared out the window at the blurred city lights, tears silently slipping down my cheeks. I thought about Michael. I thought about the heavy gold ring, the secret compartment, and the terrible burden he had carried to try and save us.
When the SUV pulled into a highly secure, gated compound on the South Side, Luca escorted me inside a heavily fortified, luxurious safe house.
“You’ll be safe here,” Luca said quietly, standing in the doorway of the plush living room. He looked at me, his dark eyes filled with an unbearable sorrow. “I am so incredibly sorry, Sarah. I cannot change what my father did. But I swear to you, I will make this right.”
I didn't look at him. I couldn't. I just stared at the cold marble fireplace.
Luca quietly closed the door, leaving me alone in the massive room.
For two hours, I sat on the leather sofa, trembling with anxiety, waiting for Marco to call and say they had found Daniel.
At 3:00 AM, the heavy wooden doors of the living room opened.
I jumped up, expecting to see my son.
Instead, Luca walked in. He looked completely devastated. His suit jacket was gone, his tie undone, and his hands were shaking.
“Did you find him?” I asked, my voice cracking with desperation. “Luca, please tell me you found him.”
Luca stopped a few feet away from me. He didn't look me in the eyes.
“We found him, Sarah,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a hoarse whisper.
“Where is he?” I cried, taking a step toward him. “Why isn't he with you?”
Luca finally looked up. His eyes were entirely red, filled with tears he was desperately trying to hold back.
“When Daniel ran from the pier,” Luca choked out, “he didn't just run into the streets, Sarah. He went to the one place he thought he could get justice for his father.”
My blood ran completely cold. “What do you mean?”
“Marco tracked him on the security cameras,” Luca said, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “Daniel walked straight into the Bellini compound. He went to Carlo Bellini.”
The room spun.
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“He went to Carlo?” I gasped, horrified. “Why?!”
“Because Carlo is the only man in Chicago powerful enough to destroy the Moretti family,” Luca said grimly. “Daniel wants revenge for his father’s murder. And he just handed Carlo Bellini the perfect excuse to start a war.”
