Chapter 6 - THE BASEMENT INTERROGATION AND THE WEIGHT OF TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS
The heavy iron door of the basement holding cell slammed shut with a sickening, metallic echo that reverberated through the concrete walls.
Vanessa Bellini was shoved unceremoniously onto a cold steel bench by two of Luca's largest security operatives.
She immediately scrambled to her feet, her silk nightrobe brushing against the dusty floor, her face twisted in a mask of hysterical fury.
"You cannot lock me in this filthy dungeon!" Vanessa screamed, pounding her manicured fists against the reinforced glass partition. "My father will have every single one of you arrested by sunrise! Do you hear me? You're dead men!"
A few feet away, sitting caved over in a plastic interrogation chair with his hands still zip-tied behind his back, sat William Mercer.
The high-end private investigator looked up with pale, sweat-slicked skin as Luca stepped slowly out of the shadows into the harsh fluorescent light of the holding room.
Luca walked with slow, predatory steps, his dark suit jacket unbuttoned, his eyes fixed entirely on the trembling investigator.
"Mr. Mercer, I presume," Luca said, his voice dangerously soft in the confined space.
Mercer swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.
"Mr. Moretti, I was just... I was just doing a standard background contract," Mercer stammered, his professional bravado entirely evaporated. "Miss Bellini hired me to pull public records and verify lifestyle timelines. That's all legal private detective work in the state of Illinois."
Luca stopped two feet in front of the chair, leaning down slightly so his face was level with the investigator's.
"Is fabricating a five-year illicit affair and framing my ex-wife with forged photographs also considered standard legal detective work in Illinois, Mr. Mercer?" Luca asked quietly.
Mercer shrank back against the plastic backrest, his eyes darting toward Vanessa, who was now glaring at him with a murderous expression.
"She paid me fifty thousand dollars upfront," Mercer whispered, his voice cracking under the pressure. "And she promised another fifty thousand the moment the package was delivered to Elena Moretti's penthouse tomorrow morning."
Vanessa shrieked from behind the glass, pressing her face against the partition.
"Shut your lying mouth, Mercer! Don't listen to him, Luca, he's making up stories to save his own skin!" she yelled hysterically.
Luca didn't even turn his head to look at her.
"Daniel," Luca commanded without raising his voice.
"Yes, boss?" Daniel stepped forward from the corner of the room, holding a heavy manila folder.
"Transfer Mr. Mercer to our secure downtown facility and make sure his bank accounts are frozen by midnight," Luca instructed coldly. "And as for Miss Bellini, lock her in the east wing guest suite upstairs and cut off all communication with the outside world until her father arrives tomorrow."
"Understood, boss," Daniel replied briskly.
Luca turned on his heel and walked out of the basement, leaving Vanessa's furious screams echoing down the concrete hallway.
Meanwhile, down in the quiet staff quarters of the mansion, I stood alone in my tiny room staring down at the heavy paper check resting on my narrow mattress.
Ten thousand dollars.
It was an amount of money that felt completely unreal to someone whose entire bank account consisted of seventy-four dollars and twelve cents.
My cheek still throbbed with a dull, persistent ache beneath the medicated gauze the doctor had applied.
I quickly packed my few modest clothes into a worn canvas duffel bag, my hands shaking as I zipped it shut.
Within fifteen minutes, Daniel knocked quietly on my door and escorted me through the underground service tunnel to a waiting black sedan.
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"The boss wants you safe at the downtown safehouse for the next two weeks," Daniel told me firmly as he opened the car door. "Don't turn on your phone, don't talk to anyone, and let us handle the fallout."
I climbed into the dark vehicle, watching through the rain-streaked window as the iron gates of the Moretti mansion faded into the Chicago night.
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