Chapter 4 - The Blood on the Emerald
The crystal glass slipped from my hand. It shattered against the floor, but I couldn’t even hear the sound over the rushing in my ears.
Did you really think your husband died by accident?
Caleb squeezed my hand, looking up at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Mommy? Why is the lady talking about Daddy?”
I couldn’t speak. My chest was tight, my lungs refusing to take in air. David had been a driver. He had always told me he worked for a wealthy corporate executive. He never mentioned the Moretti family. He never mentioned the mafia. We had been married for barely a year, Caleb just a newborn, when the police knocked on my door to tell me David’s car had been run off the bridge.
Matteo stepped between me and his mother, shielding me from her toxic smile.
“What did you do to David?” Matteo demanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register.
Beatrice adjusted her collar, covering the emerald again. She looked completely unbothered. “He was loyal to a fault. Your father tasked him with hiding his assets before he tried to flee the city. David knew where the money was. He knew where the emerald was. I simply… persuaded him to tell me.”
“He wouldn't have told you!” Arthur shouted, taking a step toward the table. His hands were shaking in his pockets. “David was a good man! He loved his wife and his new baby. He promised me he wouldn’t break.”
Beatrice let out a sharp, dismissive sigh. “Oh, Arthur. Everyone breaks when you hold a gun to their newborn child’s head.”
The room went deathly silent.
I stopped breathing.
Eight years ago. I remembered a night I woke up to find the front door unlocked. David was standing in the living room, pale as a ghost, staring at Caleb’s crib. He had told me it was just a bad dream. He was dead three days later.
“You threatened my baby?” I whispered. The fear in my chest suddenly evaporated, replaced by a blinding, white-hot rage I had never felt before. I let go of Caleb’s hand.
I didn't think. I just moved.
I lunged across the marble floor. Before the security guards could react, before Matteo could stop me, I grabbed Beatrice by the silk collar of her dress.
“You touched my son?!” I screamed, shoving the older woman backward against her heavy dining chair. The chair tipped. Beatrice crashed to the floor, taking the tablecloth and a dozen crystal glasses down with her.
“Get her off me!” Beatrice shrieked, scrambling backward on the wet marble.
Two guards rushed forward and grabbed my arms, hauling me backward. I fought them, kicking and thrashing, tears streaming down my face. “You killed my husband! You left my son without a father!”
“Enough!” Matteo roared.
He grabbed the nearest guard by the throat and shoved him against the wall. The other guard immediately let me go, stepping back with his hands raised. Matteo turned to me, his chest heaving, his dark eyes filled with a turbulent mix of shock and desperate empathy.
He gently gripped my shoulders. “Clara. Clara, look at me.”
I was sobbing uncontrollably, my hands shaking. Matteo pulled me into his chest, hiding my face in his dark suit jacket. He smelled like cedar and expensive cologne. For a second, the mafia boss wasn't a monster. He was a shield.
Caleb ran over and hugged my leg, burying his face in my apron.
From the floor, Beatrice laughed as she got to her feet, brushing broken glass from her skirt. “Look at you, Matteo. Defending the help. You are exactly as weak as your father.”
Matteo didn't let go of me, but he turned his head to look at his mother.
“You are no longer my mother,” Matteo said coldly. “You are a parasite. And as of tonight, you are stripped of everything. The accounts, the properties, the family name. It’s all gone.”
Vanessa, who was still crying on the floor near the doorway, suddenly let out a bitter, ugly laugh.
“You think you can just take it all away from her?” Vanessa wiped her ruined mascara. She glared at Beatrice with pure hatred. “Tell him, Mother. Tell him why you really needed me to marry him.”
Beatrice shot Vanessa a warning look. “Shut your mouth, you foolish girl.”
But Vanessa pushed herself up, pointing a trembling finger at the older woman.
“She’s broke, Matteo!” Vanessa yelled. “Her new husband—my father—drank and gambled away the rival family’s fortune years ago! She came crawling back to the Moretti empire because she owes twenty million dollars to the Cartel! If she doesn't pay them by midnight tonight, they’re going to kill her!”
The revelation hit the room like a physical blow.
Beatrice’s pristine facade finally shattered. Her eyes darted wildly toward the antique grandfather clock in the corner of the dining room.
It was 11:15 PM.
Forty-five minutes until midnight.
Matteo let out a dark, terrifying chuckle. He slowly let go of me and took a step toward Beatrice.
“So that’s it,” Matteo said softly. “You didn't come back for power. You came back for survival. You were going to use my marriage to Vanessa to access the family’s offshore accounts.”
Beatrice backed away, her hands trembling. “Matteo, listen to me. If they come for me, they will come for you too. We are blood. You have to authorize the transfer.”
“I don't have to do anything,” Matteo said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked at the security guards. “Lock down the estate. Nobody gets in. And throw this woman out the front gates.”
“No!” Beatrice screamed, true panic finally gripping her. She grabbed the edge of the table. “You can’t do this! They’ll skin me alive!”
“Actions have consequences, Beatrice,” Arthur said quietly from the door.
The guards stepped forward to grab her. But before they could touch her, a loud, heavy thud echoed from the front hallway.
Everyone froze.
Then, Caleb pointed toward the open dining room doors.
Arthur had collapsed to his knees. He was clutching his chest, his face pale and covered in a sudden sheen of sweat.
“Mr. Arthur!” Caleb cried, running toward the old man.
Matteo sprinted across the room, catching his father just as Arthur fell sideways. “Dad! Dad, what is it?”
May you like
Arthur’s breathing was shallow and ragged. He reached up with a trembling hand, grabbing the lapel of Matteo’s jacket.
“Matteo…” Arthur gasped, his eyes wide with fear. “The Cartel… they aren’t coming at midnight. They’re already here.”
