Chapter 4 - The Master Suite
The heavy mahogany door to the master suite swung open without a whisper of sound.
The room was bathed in the pale, silver glow of the city lights filtering through sheer silk drapes.
On the king-sized four-post bed, Vanessa Bellini was curled beneath an ivory goose-down duvet.
Her long dark hair spilled across the satin pillows.
Her breathing was deep, rhythmic, and peaceful.
On the antique vanity table across the room, her diamond engagement ring sat inside an open velvet box, glittering beside bottles of expensive French perfume.
Luca stepped into the room, his dress shoes making no sound against the thick Aubusson rug.
He did not turn on the overhead lights.
He walked over to the armchair sitting in the shadowed corner opposite the foot of the bed and sat down.
He crossed his legs, resting his hands casually on his knees, and watched the woman he had promised to marry.
Six months ago, he had believed she was an asset.
She was educated in Switzerland, possessed flawless manners, and understood the brutal realities of Chicago’s underworld politics.
He had known she did not love him; mafia marriages were mergers of territory and bloodlines, not romantic fairy tales.
He had offered her security, absolute protection, and the total authority of the Moretti name.
In return, she was bringing him twenty-four million dollars of debt and a contract with his executioner.
Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out his gold pocket watch.
The hands pointed to 2:15 A.M.
He let the watch case snap shut.
The sharp, metallic click cut through the stillness of the bedroom.
Vanessa stirred instantly.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
She blinked against the shadows, sensing the presence in the room before her eyes could adjust.
"Luca?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she propped herself up on her elbows.
"Is that you, darling?"
"Go back to sleep, Vanessa," Luca said, his voice coming from the deep darkness of the corner.
"It's early."
Vanessa sat up fully, pulling the duvet over her bare shoulders.
She reached out to switch on the bedside lamp, but Luca’s voice stopped her hand mid-air.
"Leave the lights off."
The flatness in his tone made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
She lowered her hand slowly.
"What's wrong? Is something happening with the morning security?"
"Everything is proceeding precisely according to schedule," Luca replied softly.
"I just came in to check on you."
Vanessa let out a small, relieved laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You frightened me, sitting there in the dark like a ghost."
"Ghosts are harmless, Vanessa. It is the living who carry poison in their pockets."
A momentary pause hung in the cold air.
Vanessa leaned forward, trying to read the expression hidden behind the shadows of his face.
"Luca, you are behaving very strangely. Are you having second thoughts about tomorrow?"
"Not a single one."
Luca stood up from the armchair.
He walked slowly toward the edge of the bed, stopping just two feet from where she sat.
The pale moonlight illuminated his cold, chiseled face and the sharp, emotionless intensity of his gray eyes.
"I was thinking about Emma," he said casually.
Vanessa’s posture tightened almost imperceptibly beneath the covers.
"The maid? For heaven's sake, Luca, it's two in the morning. Why on earth are you dwelling on a servant's clumsy accident?"
"It wasn't an accident."
Vanessa’s eyes widened slightly, her defenses rising behind an innocent mask.
"What do you mean?"
"She has a fractured rib, Vanessa. Deep tissue lacerations across her spine."
"Dr. Harris had to pull splinters of nineteenth-century walnut from her muscle tissue."
Luca leaned down, placing both hands on the edge of the mattress, his face inches from hers.
"The exact wood that lines the banister of my private wine cellar."
Vanessa’s heart began to beat visibly against the hollow of her throat.
She forced a look of bewildered sympathy onto her face.
"Good heavens... she must have fallen much harder than she told me."
"She didn't fall."
"Luca, she told you herself at the dinner table—"
"She lied to protect her sick mother," Luca interrupted, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
"Because a woman wearing a red silk dress and a five-carat diamond told her she would destroy her family if she told the truth."
Vanessa froze.
The air left her lungs in a sharp, silent gasp.
The mask of innocent elegance that she had worn so effortlessly for six months began to crack around the edges.
"I... I don't know what lies that girl has been feeding you, Luca, but you cannot possibly take the word of a cleaning woman over your own bride."
"Emma didn't feed me anything," Luca said, his eyes never leaving her face.
"The high-definition digital cameras I installed in the wine cellar three months ago did the talking."
Every drop of blood drained from Vanessa’s face.
Her skin turned the color of chalk.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Forty-eight frames per second, Vanessa," Luca whispered, his tone terrifyingly conversational.
"Crystal clear infrared resolution."
"I saw the white envelope."
"I saw you shove a defenseless twenty-eight-year-old girl down the stairs."
"And I saw you smile at Thomas Reed while you handed him the blueprints to my death."
Vanessa scrambled backward across the bed, pressing her back against the tall leather headboard.
Panic, raw and unadulterated, flared in her dark eyes.
"Luca, listen to me—please—you don't understand the pressure I was under!"
"Julian Vance was going to ruin my family! He was going to seize everything my father built!"
"He threatened to kill my brother!"
"So you decided to kill mine instead?" Luca asked, his voice cracking like a whip through the quiet room.
Vanessa began to sob, the tears finally real, born of absolute terror.
"I had no choice! Vance said if I didn't deliver the northern routes, he would put Mateo in a concrete block and drop him in Lake Michigan!"
"You had a choice the day you accepted my ring, Vanessa."
Luca stood up straight, towering over her trembling form.
"You could have come to me."
"You could have told me about your father’s debts."
"I would have wiped Julian Vance’s ledger clean with a single phone call, and your brother would be safe in Milan by tomorrow morning."
"Instead, you thought you were clever enough to dance with wolves and feed me to the pack."
Vanessa reached out with trembling hands, trying to grasp the sleeve of his shirt.
"Luca, please! I love you! I was terrified! We can fix this—we can call Vance right now and tell him the route is blown—"
Luca stepped back, letting her hands fall uselessly onto the sheets.
"You are not calling anyone, Vanessa."
"Your phone has already been cloned and placed on an encrypted loop by Daniel."
"Every message Vance thinks he is receiving from you is being composed by my intelligence team."
Vanessa stared at him in horror.
"What... what are you going to do to me?"
Luca walked over to the vanity table.
He picked up the heavy diamond engagement ring sitting in its velvet box.
He slipped the box into his vest pocket.
"Tomorrow morning, you are going to put on your five-thousand-dollar custom lace wedding gown," Luca instructed with chilling calm.
"You are going to do your hair, put on your jewelry, and smile for the photographers waiting outside the mansion gates."
"You will get into the bridal limousine with your bridesmaids at 9:30 sharp."
"And you will ride to Holy Name Cathedral."
"And what will happen there?" she sobbed, clutching the duvet to her chin.
Luca walked toward the master bedroom door and pulled it open.
Two armed guards in dark tactical suits stepped into the doorway, their faces impassive as stone.
"These gentlemen will ensure that you do not leave this room until your hair stylist arrives at dawn," Luca said without turning back.
"Pray that your friend Julian Vance is as brave tomorrow morning as he was when he threatened your brother."
"Because by noon, Vanessa..."
Luca paused on the threshold, his cold gray eyes casting one final, lethal glance over his shoulder.
"You are going to learn what happens to people who try to bury a Moretti."
He pulled the door shut behind him, locking the heavy brass deadbolt from the outside with a decisive thud.
Behind the thick mahogany, Vanessa’s muffled screams and frantic pounding on the wood were completely absorbed by the soundproofing of the grand estate.
Luca walked down the carpeted hallway toward the service stairs.
It was 2:45 A.M.
The bride was contained.
May you like
The trap was set.
Now, it was time to speak with his driver.
