Chapter 5 - The Engagement Ring's Secret
The silence in the master suite was deafening.
“He says Victor Volkov gave him the ring... as payment for setting up your brother’s murder.”
The whiskey glass in my hand slipped, shattering against the hardwood floor.
Luca didn’t even flinch at the sound. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked on Marco, his face transforming into a mask of pure, lethal fury.
“Bring him to the study,” Luca ordered, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating growl. “Do not let anyone else near him.”
Marco nodded and quickly exited the room.
Luca turned to me. The warmth and guilt that had been in his eyes moments ago were gone. In their place was the ruthless Don of the Chicago Syndicate.
“Stay here,” Luca commanded. “Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me.”
“I want to hear what he says,” I said, stepping forward, my heart pounding wildly. “He helped kill Mark—Matteo. I have a right to know.”
Luca stopped. He looked at me, then at Lily, who was still fast asleep on the massive bed.
“Claire, the things you are going to hear in that room are not meant for a mother,” Luca warned softly.
“I stopped being just a mother tonight,” I said, my voice shaking with a fierce, blinding anger. “I’ve been scrubbing this man’s daughter’s floors for two years while he spent the blood money paid for my husband’s life. I am coming with you.”
Luca studied my face for a long moment. He saw the fire in my eyes, the desperation for the truth that had been denied to me for four years.
He gave a single, curt nod.
“Stay behind me,” he said.
I followed Luca down the grand staircase and down a long, dimly lit hallway to his private study.
The room smelled of old leather and cigar smoke. Standing in the center of the room, flanked by two massive guards, was Arthur Bellini.
Vanessa’s father was a man who usually projected wealth and arrogance. Tonight, he looked like a broken old man. He was sweating profusely, his expensive suit wrinkled, his hands trembling violently.
When Luca walked into the room, Arthur flinched as if he had been struck.
“Luca, please,” Arthur begged, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know! I swear to God, I didn’t know it was for a hit!”
Luca slowly walked around his heavy mahogany desk. He didn’t sit down. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms, exuding an overwhelming, terrifying authority.
“Start from the beginning, Arthur,” Luca said quietly.
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes darting to me, confused by the presence of a housemaid in a mafia interrogation. But he didn’t dare question it.
“Five years ago,” Arthur stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Your father’s empire was crushing mine. I was desperate for cash to keep my shipping business afloat. Victor Volkov approached me.”
“With an offer,” Luca deduced.
“Yes,” Arthur nodded rapidly. “Victor said he had a rat in his organization trying to flee the country with three million dollars. He said the rat had hired my shipping company to smuggle him out.”
I felt a cold knot form in my stomach.
“He made a deal with Victor Volkov to smuggle him, you, and Lily out of the country,” Luca had told me upstairs.
“Victor told me to reroute the shipping container,” Arthur continued, sobbing now. “He said if I gave him the coordinates of the pickup spot, he would let me keep a cut of the three million. But I didn’t know the rat was your brother, Luca! I thought it was just some Russian defector!”
“You sold him out,” I whispered, the hatred burning in my throat.
Arthur looked at me, tears streaming down his face. “I just rerouted the truck! I didn’t pull the trigger! The Volkovs ran his car off the cliff before he even reached the docks!”
Luca’s expression didn’t change.
“And the ring, Arthur?” Luca asked coldly. “How did Victor pay you with my mother’s engagement ring?”
I gasped, looking at Luca.
His mother’s ring? The massive diamond he had given Vanessa?
Arthur fell to his knees on the Persian rug.
“The three million in cash burned in the car wreckage,” Arthur cried. “Victor couldn’t pay me what he promised. So he gave me the ring instead.”
Luca went completely still.
“Victor Volkov had my mother’s ring,” Luca repeated, the words slow and dangerous.
Arthur nodded frantically. “Yes! He said he took it from Matteo’s body before they pushed the car over the cliff. I kept it hidden in my safe for five years. But when you proposed to Vanessa... I panicked. I gave her the ring, hoping you’d recognize it and think my family was worthy of your bloodline. I thought it would protect us!”
“You gave your daughter a stolen heirloom plucked from the dead body of my brother,” Luca roared, kicking a heavy leather chair so hard it shattered against the wall.
Arthur whimpered, cowering on the floor.
I covered my mouth, tears of horror slipping down my cheeks.
Matteo had taken his mother’s ring with him when he tried to run. He was going to use it to propose to me once we were safe.
And Arthur Bellini had let his daughter flaunt it in my face while I served them dinner.
“Take him to the basement,” Luca ordered Marco, his voice shaking with a rage that felt tectonic. “He doesn’t leave until I decide how he dies.”
“No! Luca, please!” Arthur screamed as the guards dragged him away. “I gave you Victor! You need me!”
The heavy doors slammed shut, cutting off his pathetic cries.
Luca stood in the center of the destroyed study, his chest heaving. He looked at me, the devastation in his eyes mirroring my own.
“He was going to ask you to marry him,” Luca whispered, staring at the spot where Arthur had kneeled.
I nodded, unable to speak through my tears.
Luca walked over to me, stopping just inches away. He gently placed a hand on my shoulder, offering a rare, comforting touch.
“I will get it back for you, Claire,” Luca promised. “I will rip that ring off Vanessa’s finger and give it to you. It belongs to you.”
Before I could thank him, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Luca pulled it out. He looked at the caller ID, and his jaw tightened.
He answered it, putting it on speaker.
“Victor,” Luca said coldly.
A thick, grating Russian accent filled the silent study.
“Don Moretti,” Victor Volkov chuckled. “I hear you had a bit of excitement at an apartment tonight. My men tell me they ran into you.”
“Your men are bleeding out in an alley,” Luca replied smoothly.
“An occupational hazard,” Victor dismissed. “But we have a bigger problem, Luca. I hear Arthur Bellini surrendered to you an hour ago.”
Luca didn’t confirm or deny it.
“Arthur is a liar, Luca,” Victor continued, his tone turning menacing. “Whatever he told you about your brother’s death, it’s a desperate attempt to save his own skin.”
“I prefer to hear all sides before I make a judgment, Victor,” Luca said.
Victor laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound.
“Well, perhaps this will help you decide who to trust,” Victor sneered. “I have someone here who would very much like to speak with you.”
There was a brief scuffle on the other end of the line.
Then, a voice crackled through the speaker. A voice I hadn’t heard in four years. A voice that haunted my dreams and made my daughter ask when her daddy was coming home.
“Luca?” the voice croaked, weak and desperate.
I stopped breathing. The room began to spin.
Luca’s phone nearly slipped from his fingers.
May you like
“Luca, it’s me,” Matteo whispered.
My husband was alive.
