Chapter 11 - The Choice Between Power and True Love
The video feed played in a silent, continuous loop.
My mother’s terrified eyes darted frantically around the dark basement. Julian Thorne stood behind her, adjusting his pristine white cuffs, looking directly into the camera with that chilling, polite smile.
The phone slipped from Luca’s hand, clattering against the gravel driveway.
I couldn't breathe. The cold Chicago air suddenly felt like crushed glass in my lungs.
“No,” I choked out, a violent sob ripping through my throat. “No, he said she was safe! Vanessa said it was a bluff!”
Luca grabbed my shoulders, pulling me firmly against his chest.
“Look at me, Emily,” he commanded, his voice a steady, grounding force in the chaos. “Look at me.”
I forced my tear-filled eyes up to meet his dark, resolute gaze.
“We are getting her back,” Luca vowed, his tone absolute. “He thinks he holds all the cards because he has a hostage. But he doesn't realize he just gave us exactly what we need.”
I blinked, desperately trying to focus. “What do you mean? He wants the ledger. If we give it to him, we lose our leverage. He’ll force the marriage anyway!”
Luca reached down and picked up the phone. He enlarged the video, analyzing the background behind my mother.
“Julian made a mistake,” Luca said, a dangerous edge returning to his voice. “He’s a New York boy. He doesn't know Chicago.”
Luca pointed to the small, frosted glass window near the ceiling of the dark basement in the video. Through the grime, the neon red glow of a very specific sign was flickering in the background.
AL’S 24/7 BAIT & TACKLE.
“He didn't take her to New York,” Luca said, a wicked, lethal smile spreading across his face. “He kept her local. He’s hiding her in the old smuggling tunnels under the South Side docks.”
My heart hammered wildly. “He’s still in the city?”
“He thinks he’s untouchable,” Luca said, pulling his Glock from his holster and checking the magazine. “But he just backed the Moretti family into our own backyard.”
Luca turned toward the mansion. “Michael!”
Michael appeared at the front door, looking alarmed.
“Julian has her mother,” Luca barked. “South Side docks. The old bait shop tunnels. Call the boys. Tell them to lock down a five-block radius. Nobody gets out.”
Michael’s expression hardened instantly. “Consider it done.”
Luca grabbed my hand, pulling me into the armored SUV.
We didn't drive to the airport. We tore through the streets of Chicago, the heavy V8 engine roaring like a caged beast.
I clutched the hidden leather ledger against my chest.
“Luca,” I said softly, the adrenaline making my hands shake. “Julian isn't stupid. He knows you'll try to rescue her. He’ll have heavily armed men guarding those tunnels.”
“Let them try to stop me,” Luca growled, weaving flawlessly through traffic.
We arrived at the South Side docks just as the sun began to dip below the skyline, casting long, menacing shadows across the rusted warehouses.
A dozen black SUVs were already parked in a perimeter around the decaying bait shop. The Moretti enforcers—Luca’s most trusted men—were armed and waiting.
Luca stepped out of the car. He looked like an avenging angel in his tuxedo.
“Keep her in the car,” Luca ordered his lead enforcer, pointing to me.
“No!” I argued, throwing the passenger door open and stepping out in my midnight-blue gown. “She’s my mother, Luca. I am not sitting in this car while you walk into a trap.”
Luca turned to me, his jaw clenched.
“Emily, it’s too dangerous—”
“I am the heir to the Naples Syndicate, aren't I?” I interrupted, my voice trembling but defiant. I reached up and touched the silver ring resting against my collarbone. “Julian wants a Queen. Let him face one.”
Luca stared at me. The protective instinct in his eyes battled with the profound respect he held for my courage.
Slowly, he nodded.
“Stay exactly one step behind me,” Luca ordered.
We approached the rusted metal doors of the old bait shop. Two of Luca’s men kicked the doors off their hinges.
The smell of mildew and saltwater hit me instantly.
We descended a narrow, concrete staircase into the dark belly of the smuggling tunnels.
At the bottom of the stairs, the tunnel opened up into a wide, dimly lit concrete bunker.
Sitting in the center of the room, tied to the wooden chair just like in the video, was my mother.
“Mom!” I screamed, stepping forward.
“Ah, the happy family arrives,” a smooth, polished voice echoed from the shadows.
Julian Thorne stepped into the dim light. He was still wearing his pristine white suit, the black rose pinned perfectly to his lapel.
Flanking him were six heavily armed New York enforcers, their weapons raised and aimed squarely at us.
Luca’s men instantly raised their own weapons. A Mexican standoff in the dark.
“I must admit, Mr. Moretti,” Julian said with a polite sigh, resting his hands on his silver-tipped cane. “I expected you to run to the airport. I underestimated your knowledge of your own city’s sewage systems.”
“Let her go, Julian,” Luca said, his gun aimed directly at the New York boss's head. “You have nowhere to run. My men have the building surrounded.”
Julian chuckled softly.
“I don't need to run, Luca,” Julian said smoothly. “I have the only thing that matters.” He looked at me. “Miss Carter. Bring me the ledger, and your mother walks free.”
My mother whimpered through the gag in her mouth, violently shaking her head at me. Her eyes begged me to run.
I took a slow breath.
I reached into the folds of my velvet gown and pulled out the small, leather-bound book.
Julian’s eyes locked onto it with hungry desperation.
“Bring it here,” Julian commanded.
I took a step forward.
Luca grabbed my arm, holding me back. “Emily, no. If you give him that book, he has no reason to let her live.”
I looked up at Luca.
“Trust me,” I whispered.
Luca hesitated, his eyes searching mine. Slowly, agonizingly, he released my arm.
I walked across the damp concrete floor, the heavy velvet of my gown sweeping silently over the dirt.
I stopped five feet away from Julian.
“The ledger for her life,” I said firmly, holding the book out.
Julian smiled a triumphant, terrifying smile.
He reached out and snatched the book from my hand.
“You have made the right choice, my Queen,” Julian sneered.
He flipped the book open to inspect the pages.
His smile vanished instantly.
His face drained of color.
The pages were completely blank.
It wasn't the Moretti ledger.
It was a blank pocket journal I had found in the glove compartment of Luca’s SUV on the drive over.
Julian looked up at me, pure, unadulterated fury twisting his elegant features.
“Where is the real ledger?!” he roared, raising his cane to strike me.
But he never got the chance.
Before Julian’s arm could even descend, I reached into the deep pocket hidden in the folds of my velvet skirt.
I pulled out the rusted revolver Vanessa had left at the docks that morning.
May you like
And I pressed the cold steel barrel directly against the center of Julian Thorne’s pristine white chest.
“The real ledger is already in the hands of the other four families,” I said, my voice as cold and hard as a diamond. “You’re dethroned, Julian.”
