Chapter 6 - THE GATES OF O'HARE AND THE MIDNIGHT FLIGHT
The rain had started to fall over Chicago, slicking the dark asphalt of the private access road leading toward the tarmac of O'Hare’s private aviation terminal.
Inside the back of Luca’s bulletproof black SUV, the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife. Sofia sat in the middle row, holding little Leo and Mia, who had finally fallen asleep against her shoulders, exhausted from the harrowing day. In the front passenger seat sat Daniel, handcuffed with heavy zip-ties, staring miserably out the rain-streaked window.
And in the back row, sitting quietly beside Luca Moretti himself, was me.
I had washed the sticky red wine from my hair in the mansion's staff bathroom fifteen minutes earlier and borrowed a clean navy wool coat from Sofia's wardrobe. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but the paralyzing fear I had felt back at the dinner table had transformed into a strange, resolute calm. I had stood up to Vanessa Bellini once; I wasn't about to back down now.
Up ahead, through the blurred sheets of rain, the red taillights of a sleek silver Mercedes sedan were pulled up sharply against the chain-link security gate of the private hangar terminal.
A security guard in a yellow raincoat was standing by the driver's window, arguing with someone inside.
“Ramirez,” Luca murmured into his encrypted car radio. “Block the exit. Do not let her car move another inch.”
Within three seconds, two black SUV escorts trailing behind us surged forward, cutting sharply across the wet asphalt to trap the silver Mercedes between the terminal fence and our vehicles.
The brake lights of Vanessa’s car flashed brightly in the dark.
Luca pushed open the heavy door of our SUV, stepping out into the cold Chicago rain without even bothering to raise an umbrella. I followed right behind him, the icy droplets instantly pelting my face and dampening the wool coat.
Vanessa shoved the driver’s side door of the Mercedes open and stumbled out into the downpour, her designer heels sinking into the wet gravel. Her elaborate blonde hair was coming undone, sticking to her wet cheeks, and her fitted red evening gown was ruined by mud at the hem.
“Luca!” she screamed over the roar of the rain and jet engines idling in the distance. “You can't do this! You can't hold me here! This is kidnapping!”
Luca walked toward her with slow, deliberate strides, his black suit absorbing the rain like a shadow. He stopped two feet away from her, towering over her in the darkness.
“Kidnapping?” Luca repeated, his voice carrying clearly over the storm. “You stole my nephews, you forged my corporate will, you framed my innocent sister, and you emptied three million dollars from my reserve account. And you’re talking about kidnapping?”
Vanessa’s chest heaved as she panted, her eyes darting frantically toward the security gate and the parked private jet idling on the runway behind it.
“I did what I had to do!” she shrieked, her mask completely slipping away to reveal the desperate, venomous grifter underneath. “Your family thinks you own this city, Luca! But you’re just a thug with a fancy suit! I was going to take everything you built and leave you with nothing!”
She suddenly reached into the pocket of her wet coat and pulled out a small, snub-nosed silver revolver, leveling it directly at Luca’s chest.
Gasps echoed from the security guards behind us.
“Don't move! Any of you, don't move an inch or I swear to God I’ll put a bullet through his heart!” Vanessa cried out, her finger trembling violently against the trigger.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My hands clenched inside the pockets of Sofia's wool coat.
Luca didn't flinch. He didn't raise his hands. He didn't even blink. He just stared at the barrel of the gun as if it were a child's toy.
“You won't shoot, Vanessa,” Luca said calmly.
“Try me! Try me, you arrogant bastard!” she sobbed, tears mixing with the rain on her face.
“If you pull that trigger,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a register so chillingly lethal it made the hairs on my arms stand up, “every bank account, shell company, and offshore trust your father set up in Zurich will be frozen and seized within ten seconds. You won't make it to the end of the runway before Interpol takes every cent you ever dreamed of stealing.”
Vanessa hesitated. Her lower lip quivered. Her finger tightened slightly on the trigger.
“I’d rather watch you burn than let you win—” she screamed.
Before she could finish the sentence, a shadow moved like lightning from behind the Mercedes.
It was Marco.
With a swift, practiced motion, Marco kicked the base of Vanessa’s wrist. The silver revolver flew out of her hand, spinning through the rainy air before splashing harmlessly into a deep puddle of mud by the fence.
Vanessa let out a sharp cry of pain, stumbling backward against the side of her car as Marco pinned her arms behind her back with a pair of steel handcuffs.
“Let me go! Let me go, you animals!” she screamed, kicking her heels against the gravel as Marco hauled her upright.
Luca didn't look at her as she was shoved into the back of one of the escort vehicles. He simply turned his head slowly, looking past the tarmac toward the distant skyline of Chicago glittering through the storm.
Then he turned his dark eyes toward me.
“Emily,” he said quietly over the hum of the rain.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Your mother’s rent at the apartment building on Ashland Avenue.”
My heart skipped a beat. I braced myself for whatever was coming next.
“It’s paid in full,” Luca said softly, a faint, rare ghost of a smile touching the corner of his lips. “For the next five years. And starting Monday morning, the Moretti family foundation is covering all of her medical expenses at Northwestern Memorial.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, hot and sudden, completely unrelated to the cold rain falling on my face.
“Thank you, sir,” I choked out, my voice trembling.
May you like
“No, Emily,” Luca said, placing a heavy, reassuring hand gently on my shoulder. “Thank you. For having the courage to speak the truth when everyone else was too afraid to lose their seat at the table.”
As the police sirens began wailing in the distance, cutting through the Chicago night to collect Vanessa Bellini and her co-conspirators once and for all, I finally knew that the nightmare was over. But the true healing for the Moretti family was only just beginning.
