Chapter 7 - The Ransom of a Matriarch
The silence in the Wisconsin woods was absolute. The wind had died down, leaving only the sound of Isabella weeping softly as she held Daniel.
Eleanor stared at the velvet box in Luca’s hand, her composure finally cracking. The signet ring wasn't just jewelry; it was the financial heartbeat of the Moretti syndicate. Without those offshore accounts, the family would bleed out in weeks.
“You would destroy your own legacy?” Eleanor sneered, though her voice shook. “To save a maid’s mother?”
“I am saving my soul, Mother,” Luca replied, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Make the call.”
Eleanor looked at the rifle Isabella had dropped. She looked at me, standing between her and the SUV. She had no moves left.
Slowly, she reached into her tailored coat and pulled out a sleek smartphone. She dialed a number on speakerphone.
“Dr. Bellini,” a man answered, his voice groggy.
“Thomas,” Eleanor said sharply. “Release Margaret Collins immediately. Have a private transport take her to Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Sign her over to Dr. Evans. He’s on Luca’s payroll.”
“Eleanor? What’s going on? Vanessa said—”
“Do it now, Thomas,” Eleanor snapped. “Or you will answer to me.”
She hung up and threw the phone onto the dirt.
“There,” Eleanor spat. “The woman is safe. Now give me the ring.”
Luca looked at his mother. The woman who had given him life, and who had tried to take his wife’s.
“No,” Luca said.
He turned and tossed the velvet box into the thick, overgrown woods. It vanished into the darkness with a soft rustle of leaves.
Eleanor screamed. A sound of pure, unadulterated rage. She lunged forward, falling to her knees in the dirt, clawing at the brush where the box had disappeared.
“You fool!” she shrieked. “You’ve ruined us!”
“I’m starting over,” Luca corrected.
He walked over to Isabella and Daniel. He gently helped his wife to her feet. Isabella looked battered—bruises covered her arms, and she favored her left side—but her eyes were fiercely alive.
She looked at me.
“Thank you, Hannah,” Isabella whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You kept him safe. You kept my baby safe.”
“He kept me safe, too,” I smiled through my tears.
Luca guided them to the SUV. “Get in. We’re going to the hospital to check on Margaret.”
As we climbed into the warm car, I looked back one last time. Eleanor Moretti was still on her hands and knees in the mud, digging frantically for a ring that no longer held power over us.
The drive back to Chicago was quiet, but it was a healing silence. Daniel fell asleep across his mother’s lap, clutching his blue scarf. Luca kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other tightly holding Isabella’s hand.
Answer one. Open two.
Eleanor was broken, Victor was captured, Vanessa was locked up. The immediate threat was neutralized.
But as we approached the city limits, my mind couldn't shake a detail that didn't fit.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly from the backseat, not wanting to wake Daniel.
Luca glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Call me Luca, Hannah. After tonight, you’re family.”
“Luca,” I corrected myself. “When Isabella came to the gate on Daniel’s birthday… how did she know about Vanessa? How did she know Victor was planning something?”
Isabella answered for him, her voice tired but clear.
“Because someone sent me a warning,” Isabella said. “A man called me from a burner phone. He told me Victor was moving against Daniel. He told me to come to the house, but to be careful.”
I frowned. “Who was it?”
“I don't know,” Isabella admitted. “He wouldn't give his name. But he had a distinct accent. Russian.”
Luca gripped the steering wheel harder. The blood drained from his face.
“Russian?” Luca repeated.
“Yes,” Isabella nodded. “Why?”
Luca didn't answer. He hit the accelerator, the SUV roaring as we sped toward the hospital.
When we arrived at Northwestern Memorial, a team of doctors was waiting. They quickly confirmed my mother had been safely transferred and was resting comfortably. The relief that washed over me was so profound my knees buckled. Luca caught me before I hit the tile.
“She’s safe, Hannah,” Luca promised.
After Isabella was checked by a physician and treated for her fractured ribs, we sat in a private waiting room. Daniel was asleep on a leather couch.
Luca paced the room, his phone glued to his ear. He hung up, his expression dark.
“Victor is awake in the basement,” Luca said. “My men interrogated him.”
“Did he confess?” Isabella asked, holding an ice pack to her side.
“He confessed to taking orders from my mother,” Luca said. “But he also confessed something else. Something worse.”
Luca looked at me, then at Isabella.
“Victor didn't just want the inheritance,” Luca explained. “He needed it. He was gambling heavily. He owes the Volkov syndicate ten million dollars.”
The Russians.
“The warning,” I realized aloud. “The Russian who called Isabella… they weren't trying to help her. They were using her to destabilize the family.”
Luca nodded grimly. “Volkov knew if Isabella came back, Victor would panic. It would create chaos. And while we were fighting a civil war…”
Suddenly, the waiting room door swung open.
One of Luca’s guards stepped inside, bleeding from a cut on his forehead. He looked terrified.
“Boss,” the guard gasped. “They hit the mansion. Ten minutes ago. Volkov’s men.”
Luca’s eyes widened. “My men?”
“Holding the line, but barely,” the guard said. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
The guard held out a small, blood-stained piece of paper.
“They didn't come to take territory, Boss. They came to leave a message.”
Luca took the paper. He read it, his face turning to stone.
He handed the paper to Isabella.
I leaned over her shoulder to read it.
Victor’s debt is inherited by the heir. We want the ten million, or we take the boy. You have 24 hours.
And pinned to the note was a small, silver charm. A soccer ball.
May you like
It was the zipper pull from Daniel’s school backpack.
TITLE: The Russian Deadline
