Chapter 2 - The Blockade
"An answer?" Luca’s voice dropped, the rich baritone turning cold enough to frost the crystal water glasses remaining on the surrounding tables. He didn't look at the manager hovering nervously five feet away. His entire universe had contracted into the three feet of space between us. "What kind of answer?"
Dr. Benton knelt beside Sophia, checking her pulse and gently massaging her calves to ease the sudden spasms threatening to lock her muscles. Around us, the ballroom had resumed a low, anxious murmur, but the guests kept a wide, respectful berth. No one interrupts a Moretti when the mask of absolute control slips.
"A rejection," I said, meeting his dark, unblinking gaze. "Two weeks after the river accident, I went to the main office on Michigan Avenue. I wanted to know if she was walking, if she was recovering. I was turned away at the security desk by a man who wouldn't even look at my ID. A week later, a registered letter arrived at my apartment. It stated explicitly that any attempt by Hannah Carter to contact Sophia Moretti, her family, or her medical team would be interpreted as a direct violation of a non-disclosure agreement I had supposedly signed at the hospital."
Luca’s brow furrowed sharply. "I never signed an NDA regarding the rescue. And I certainly never authorized my security team to turn away the person who pulled my daughter from that freezing wreck."
"The letter bore your signature, Mr. Moretti," I replied, my voice steady despite the adrenaline still hammering in my chest. "Or at least, a very convincing facsimile. It told me that Sophia was receiving the finest private care in Switzerland and that my presence would only disrupt her psychological recovery. It warned me that if I persisted, I would lose my job, my apartment, and peace."
A heavy silence fell between us, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. Luca slowly stood to his full height. His jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked near his temple. He turned his head slightly, barking a single word over his shoulder.
"Vance."
A tall man in a charcoal suit, who had materialized from the shadows like a ghost, stepped forward immediately. "Boss?"
"Check the archives for any correspondence logged under the name Hannah Carter three years ago. Cross-reference it with the legal department's external communications. Find out who drafted a letter on Moretti letterhead without my authorization." Luca’s eyes flashed with a dangerous, predatory clarity. "And find out who decided they had the authority to cut off my daughter's savior."
Vance’s expression remained an impassive mask, but his eyes darted briefly toward me before he gave a crisp nod and vanished back into the crowd.
Sophia, resting her head against Dr. Benton's shoulder, looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes. "She sang to me, Daddy. When the water was cold and my chest hurt, she stayed right there. She held my hand through the broken window until the men in the big wetsuits came."
Luca looked back down at his daughter, the fierce, terrifying aura of the Chicago syndicate boss instantly dissolving into raw, paternal tenderness. He knelt once more, gently brushing a stray lock of dark hair from her forehead. "I know, sweetheart. I know." He looked up at me, his gaze softening with a heavy, unspoken burden. "You saved her life, Miss Carter. And someone in my house tried to erase you for it."
"Why would they do that?" I asked, the question hanging heavily in the humid ballroom air.
Before Luca could answer, a sharp chime echoed through the ballroom's sound system. The hotel general manager hurried over, whispering frantically in Luca's ear. "Mr. Moretti, the press outside the side entrance has caught wind of the commotion. Flashbulbs are going off. We need to secure the exits immediately."
Luca stood up, his protective instincts snapping back into place with lethal efficiency. He didn't hesitate. He stripped off his tailored tuxedo jacket and draped it over Sophia’s shoulders to shield her from the chilly draft and the prying eyes. Then he turned his intense, dark eyes straight onto me.
May you like
"This conversation is far from over, Hannah," he said, using my first name as naturally as if we had known each other for years. He signaled two more bodyguards to flank us. "Vance will escort you out through the private service elevator to my car. You are coming with us. I want every single detail of that letter, and right now, my home is the only place in this city where you will be safe."
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