Chapter 2 - THE DRIVER IN THE DARK
The dining room went dead silent. The heavy crystal chandelier above us seemed to stop glittering.
Vanessa’s face lost its color. She looked at Luca, then at me, her eyes narrowing into cold slits. “She’s lying, Luca. The girl is making up stories to save her job after disrespecting me.”
Luca didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze on the dark windows overlooking the driveway.
“Marco,” Luca said softly. His voice barely rose above a whisper, but the capo nearest the door immediately stepped forward. “Go see who is parked outside.”
“Luca, please,” Vanessa stepped into his line of sight, placing a manicured hand on his chest. “I was just trying to upgrade your security. Ray is getting old.”
“Ray is loyal,” Luca replied, his voice like grinding stone. “And you do not manage my security.”
Minutes passed. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall felt like a hammer against my skull. I stayed near the wall, holding the empty juice glass. I shouldn’t have spoken. I had rent to pay. But watching Ray tremble had shattered every rule I’d taught myself about keeping my head down.
The heavy mahogany doors swung open. Marco walked back in. He wasn't alone. He dragged a man in a sharp black suit by the collar, throwing him onto the Persian rug.
I recognized him instantly. Not from the mafia world, but from my own neighborhood. It was Jimmy, a low-level enforcer for the Rossi family—Luca’s biggest rivals.
“He was in a running car by the gates,” Marco said, tossing a leather jacket onto the table.
Luca stood up slowly. He looked down at Jimmy, then turned his terrifying gaze to his fiancée. “You hired a Rossi soldier to drive me tonight. A night I am moving a shipment.”
Vanessa backed away, her red dress rustling. “I didn’t know! They told me he was from a private firm—”
“Who is 'they'?” Luca demanded.
Before she could answer, a small voice echoed from the hallway.
“Papa?”
A little boy, no older than six, stood in the doorway. He wore oversized pajamas and clutched a worn, silver pocket watch. It was Leo, Luca’s son from his late wife.
“Go back to bed, Leo,” Vanessa snapped, her voice cracking with panic.
Leo flinched, dropping the watch. It hit the hardwood floor, popping open.
May you like
I instinctively stepped forward and picked it up. As I snapped it shut, I saw an inscription on the inside of the lid. It wasn’t a Moretti family heirloom.
It had the Rossi crest engraved right into the silver.
