Chapter 8 - THE REHEARSAL
The next morning, the Moretti estate was bathed in brilliant autumn sunlight.
From the outside, it looked like a fairy tale.
White tents were pitched on the grand lawn. Dozens of florists were arranging thousands of white roses.
At 11:00 AM, the rehearsal luncheon began in the glass conservatory.
Forty of Chicago’s wealthiest elites sat at long, crystal-covered tables.
Vanessa was radiant. She wore a stunning white silk day dress, sipping mimosas and laughing with her bridesmaids, playing the perfect, innocent bride-to-be.
I was standing by the service doors, wearing my black uniform, my right arm pinned carefully to my side.
My heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy.
Luca was sitting at the head of the table.
He was calm. Too calm.
He smiled when people spoke to him. He held Vanessa’s hand. He played his part flawlessly.
At 11:30, the side doors opened.
The new catering staff arrived to clear the appetizer plates.
I recognized them immediately.
Three men wearing crisp white waiter jackets.
But their eyes were hard, and their postures were rigid. It was the Rossi men.
And trailing behind the scarred boss, carrying a small tray of water glasses, was the little boy.
Leo.
He looked exhausted, terrified, his eyes darting around the massive room.
When Vanessa saw the boy, her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She squeezed her champagne glass so hard her knuckles turned white.
The scarred waiter walked directly up to Vanessa’s chair.
He leaned down under the guise of refilling her water.
“The watch,” he whispered, barely moving his lips.
Vanessa swallowed. “I don’t have it on me. It’s upstairs in his safe.”
“Get it. Now.”
Vanessa stood up abruptly, tapping her knife against her crystal glass.
Clink, clink, clink.
The room fell silent.
“Family and friends,” Vanessa beamed, though her eyes were frantic. “I have a wonderful surprise. Before we serve the main course, I have a special gift for Luca. I need to run upstairs to fetch it. Please, enjoy the music for a moment!”
She turned to rush out of the room.
But a heavy hand clamped down on her wrist.
It was Luca.
He didn’t stand up. He just looked up at her from his chair.
“Sit down, Vanessa,” he said quietly.
Her fake smile stretched tight. “Darling, let go. It’s a surprise.”
“I said sit.”
His voice didn't rise, but the absolute authority in it made the entire room freeze. The string quartet slowly stopped playing.
Vanessa sank back into her chair, trembling.
The scarred waiter narrowed his eyes, reaching under his white jacket toward his waistband.
I didn't wait.
This was the signal.
I grabbed a heavy silver soup tureen from my serving cart. I marched directly up to the scarred waiter.
And with my good left arm, I swung the heavy silver bowl as hard as I could into the back of his knees.
The man buckled with a shout, crashing to the marble floor.
Chaos erupted.
Before the other two Rossi thugs could draw their weapons, the conservatory doors burst open.
Not catering staff.
Daniel and twelve heavily armed Moretti security guards flooded the room.
Dozens of laser sights painted the chests of the Rossi men.
“Nobody moves!” Daniel roared.
The guests screamed, ducking under the tables.
Vanessa leaped out of her chair, her face contorted in panic. She lunged toward the little boy, trying to grab him as a hostage.
But I was already there.
I pulled Leo behind me, wrapping my arms around him, shielding him with my own body.
Vanessa turned around.
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Standing in the center of the room, holding the real vintage pocket watch, was Luca.
And standing right beside him, wearing her finest Sunday dress, was Aunt Teresa.
