Chapter 6 - The Raid
The pounding on the massive oak doors echoed up the grand staircase like cannon fire.
"Mr. Moretti, open the door! Chicago Police Department!"
Clara shrank against my side, her small fingers digging into my apron. She was trembling from head to toe.
Luca’s jaw set into stone. The momentary shock of discovering Vanessa's lies vanished, replaced by the lethal, calculating mind of a man who controlled half the city.
He turned to his father. "Take Clara to my office. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone but me."
"Luca," Frank said, his voice pleading. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Go," Luca commanded.
Frank nodded, scooping Clara into his arms despite his bad knees. Clara buried her face in his neck, sobbing quietly as he hurried down the hall.
Luca turned to me.
"Hannah."
"Yes, sir?" I whispered, my heart hammering in my ears.
"You didn't see the drawing. You didn't see the rosary. You don't know anything about Vanessa."
His dark eyes bore into mine. "Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go downstairs. Stand by the dining room. Let me handle them."
I hurried down the grand staircase just as Luca’s security chief, a massive man named Rossi, unlocked the front doors.
Four uniformed police officers pushed their way into the foyer, water dripping from their raincoats.
Behind them walked a tall, sharp-featured man in a beige trench coat. He had cold, flat eyes and carried a thick leather briefcase.
Luca descended the stairs slowly, one hand casually resting in his slacks pocket.
"Officer Davies," Luca said smoothly, recognizing the lead cop. "It's late. You're tracking mud onto my marble."
The officer looked deeply uncomfortable. "Mr. Moretti. I apologize. We're here as an escort."
The man in the trench coat stepped forward.
"My name is Agent Miller," the man said curtly. "Child Protective Services. I have an emergency removal order for Clara Moretti."
The air in the room stopped moving.
I pressed my hand over my mouth to stop a gasp.
Luca didn't blink. "Show me."
Miller pulled a folded document from his coat and thrust it toward Luca. "We received an anonymous, highly credible tip less than an hour ago. The report states that your daughter is living in a hostile, emotionally abusive environment."
Luca glanced at the paper. "An anonymous tip."
"The caller provided specific details," Miller said, his eyes scanning the luxurious foyer with obvious disgust. "Details about a violent incident occurring at this residence tonight. The destruction of the child's property. Emotional manipulation. And allegations that an illegal loan shark confronted a member of your staff on these premises yesterday while the child was present."
My blood ran cold.
Vanessa. She had orchestrated this perfectly.
First, the loan shark photos. Then, breaking Clara's bridge. And when Luca kicked her out, she pulled the trigger on CPS.
"My daughter is fine," Luca said, his voice dangerously calm. "She is asleep."
"I need to see her," Miller demanded. "Now."
"No."
The police officers tensed. Hands drifted toward their duty belts.
"Mr. Moretti," Officer Davies warned softly. "Don't make this difficult. It's a court order."
"It's a piece of paper signed by a night-court judge who owes his seat to my family's endorsements," Luca replied effortlessly. "I will have it vacated in the morning. Until then, you are not waking my child."
Miller sneered. "You think your money makes you untouchable? We have a witness, Moretti. Someone who saw the abuse firsthand tonight."
Luca tilted his head. "And who would that be?"
"Me."
The front doors swung open again.
Vanessa Bellini walked in, flanked by two more police officers. She had changed out of her red silk gown and was now wearing a modest, dark trench coat. She looked like a concerned, heartbroken mother.
"I couldn't leave her here, Luca," Vanessa said, pressing a tissue to her dry eyes. "Not after what I saw you let happen tonight."
Luca stared at her. "You broke the bridge, Vanessa."
"I tried to stop you!" Vanessa cried, playing beautifully to the police. "Agent Miller, he flew into a rage! He smashed the little girl's project because she didn't win! He kicked his own elderly father out into the storm! It was terrifying!"
Agent Miller looked at Luca with absolute contempt. "Where is the girl?"
"This is absurd," I blurted out.
Everyone turned to look at me standing by the dining room archway.
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. "That's the maid, Agent Miller. The one who brought the armed loan shark to the house."
"I paid a debt!" I said, stepping forward, my fear evaporating into sheer anger. "He followed me! And Mr. Moretti didn't break that bridge. She did!" I pointed directly at Vanessa.
Agent Miller scoffed. "A loyal employee covering for a wealthy boss. How original."
"She's telling the truth," a new voice echoed from the stairs.
Frank Moretti stood on the landing.
But he wasn't alone.
Clara was standing beside him. And in her hands, she was carefully holding the twelve broken pieces of the wooden bridge.
"Clara," Vanessa said, putting on a sickeningly sweet voice. "Oh, darling, it's okay. Aunt Vanessa is here to take you somewhere safe."
Clara looked down at the woman who had tormented her.
"I don't want to go with you," Clara said clearly. "You broke my bridge."
Agent Miller frowned. He looked at Vanessa, then at Clara. "Sweetheart, are you afraid of your father? Did he tell you to say that?"
"My Daddy didn't do anything," Clara said, her voice shaking but brave. "He held me when I cried. Aunt Vanessa is a liar."
Vanessa’s face tightened. "She's traumatized, Agent Miller. She doesn't know what she's saying."
"Actually," I said quietly.
I reached into my apron pocket. My hands were shaking, but I pulled out my cell phone.
"I usually keep this off while I'm serving dinner," I said. "But tonight, when Miss Bellini started raising her voice at Clara, I was afraid I would be blamed. So... I hit record."
Vanessa went completely still.
I tapped the screen.
The audio was clear.
"She needs to learn that not everybody gets a prize," Vanessa’s voice echoed from the phone speaker.
"I wasn't asking for a prize," Clara’s tiny voice replied.
"Then perhaps you should stop crying like a baby because somebody built something better," Vanessa’s voice continued.
And then, clear as a bell, the sound of wood snapping.
Clara crying out.
Vanessa saying: "A real engineer wouldn't need anyone to help her."
The foyer was dead silent.
Agent Miller stared at the phone, his face flushing red. He slowly turned his head to look at Vanessa.
"You told me he smashed it in a drunken rage," Miller said quietly.
Vanessa took a step back. "She... she edited the audio! That's fake!"
Before anyone could say another word, the heavy oak doors swung open for a third time.
A tall, distinguished woman in a charcoal-gray evening gown stepped inside, shaking out her umbrella.
It was Rebecca Collins. The competition judge.
She looked at the police, then at Agent Miller, and finally at Luca.
"I am so sorry to interrupt," Rebecca said, her voice echoing with absolute authority. "But I realized I left my coat in the coatroom."
She paused, looking at the tension in the room. Then she looked at Vanessa.
"Miss Bellini," Rebecca said coldly. "Since you are here, I thought you should know. The foundation board just finished evaluating the blue star on your nephew's bridge. And we made a phone call to Daniel."
Vanessa stopped breathing.
Rebecca looked at Clara, offering a warm, genuine smile.
"Daniel confessed, Clara," Rebecca said softly. "He told us his aunt forced him to copy your design. He said you did all the real work."
Clara’s eyes widened. "He did?"
"He did." Rebecca looked back at Agent Miller. "I am a mandatory reporter, Agent. If you are looking for emotional abuse, I suggest you investigate the woman who tried to steal an eleven-year-old's scholarship to give to her nephew."
Agent Miller looked at the warrant in his hand. Then he looked at Vanessa.
Luca finally moved.
He walked slowly toward Vanessa, stopping inches from her face.
He didn't yell. He didn't raise his voice.
He leaned in, and whispered a single sentence that only she could hear.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in sheer terror.
She turned and ran out the door into the rain, leaving the police and the CPS agent standing in the foyer.
Luca turned to Agent Miller.
"Get out of my house," Luca said softly.
Miller didn't say a word. He turned and walked out, the police officers following close behind.
When the doors finally closed, the house was silent.
Luca looked up at the stairs.
Clara was smiling.
And for the first time in fourteen months, I saw Luca Moretti smile back.
But as I put my phone back in my pocket, my fingers brushed against something hard.
A crumpled piece of paper.
I pulled it out. It was a note, shoved into my pocket by someone in the chaos.
I unfolded it.
May you like
Three words were written in black ink.
Your father’s next.
