Chapter 6 - THE MATRIARCH’S SHOT
The smell of gunpowder and burning wood instantly filled the small cabin. I stood frozen in the doorway, staring in absolute disbelief at the seventy-nine-year-old woman standing on the porch. Teresa Moretti was breathing heavily, the recoil of the shotgun having bruised her shoulder, but her dark eyes were as sharp and lethal as shattered glass. She wore a thick wool coat over her cardigan, the rain plastering her silver hair to her cheeks. “Mrs. Moretti?” I gasped, finding my voice. “How did you get here?” Teresa didn't answer immediately. She kept the shotgun leveled precisely at the man writhing on the floor, groaning and clutching his bleeding shoulder. “I grew up in a family of wolves, Hannah,” Teresa said, her voice steady and commanding. “Did you really think I was going to sit in a locked safe room while my daughter-in-law was in danger?” She stepped into the cabin. Behind her, three massive men in dark suits filed into the room. Luca’s personal guard. “Secure him,” Teresa ordered, nodding toward the wounded Bellini brother. Two of the guards immediately hauled the man to his feet, zip-tying his hands behind his back and kicking his discarded handgun into the corner. The third guard quickly began sweeping the rest of the cabin to ensure it was clear. I ran toward the center of the room, falling to my knees beside Isabella. I pulled a small pocket knife from my apron and frantically sawed through the thick plastic zip-ties binding her wrists. Isabella gasped as her hands were finally freed. She rubbed her bruised wrists, wincing in pain, but immediately looked past me. “Teresa,” Isabella breathed, tears finally breaking through her stoic, defiant facade. Teresa lowered the shotgun, handing it to one of the guards. She walked over to the wooden chair and wrapped her arms tightly around Isabella. “I’ve got you, mia cara,” Teresa whispered, kissing the top of Isabella’s head. “You’re safe now. You’re coming home.” Isabella sobbed quietly into Teresa’s coat. I stood up, giving them space, my heart still hammering wildly. “How did you know where I was?” I asked one of the guards. “Mrs. Moretti called us from the safe room,” the guard explained. “She told us to track the GPS on the Range Rover you took. She figured you had found a lead on Isabella’s location.” “What about Luca?” Isabella asked, wiping her face and looking up in sudden panic. “Vanessa’s brothers… they set a trap at the south railyard. They planted explosives.” “We know,” Teresa said grimly. “I tried to call Luca, but he wasn't answering. So I called Marco directly.” “Did you reach him in time?” I asked, holding my breath. Teresa nodded. “Marco stopped the convoy two miles outside the railyard. He sent a drone in to scout the perimeter. They found the tripwires on the main warehouse doors. Luca didn't walk into the ambush.” A profound, overwhelming wave of relief washed over me. Luca was alive. The trap had failed. “Where is Luca now?” Isabella asked, standing up on shaky legs. “He’s dealing with the men who set the trap,” Teresa said quietly. The implication in her tone was chilling. “But he knows you are safe. He is waiting for us at the estate.” Isabella looked at me. She studied my rain-soaked uniform, my sensible flats, and the iron fire poker I had dropped near the door. “You’re the new maid,” Isabella said softly. “Hannah,” I introduced myself awkwardly. “Hannah,” Isabella repeated, a deep, genuine gratitude in her eyes. “You came all the way out here, in the dark, to fight a man with a gun… with a fire poker?” I blushed, looking down at the floorboards. “I couldn't let Daniel lose his mother. He loves you very much.” Isabella’s eyes filled with fresh tears at the mention of her son. “Is Daniel safe?” “He’s at the mansion,” I promised. “He’s the one who figured out Vanessa was lying. He remembered the money clip.” Isabella smiled through her tears. “He always was too smart for his own good.” “Let’s go home,” Teresa declared, turning toward the door. We piled into the armored SUVs the guards had brought. The wounded Bellini brother was thrown into the trunk of a separate vehicle to be dealt with by Luca later. The drive back to Chicago felt like waking up from a long, terrifying nightmare. The rain finally stopped, leaving the night air crisp and clear. When we pulled through the towering iron gates of the Moretti estate, the mansion was blazing with light. Security vehicles were parked haphazardly across the driveway, the remaining guards patrolling the perimeter with aggressive vigilance. We parked near the front steps. Before the SUV even fully stopped, the heavy oak front doors of the mansion flew open. Luca ran out. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket. His white shirt was stained with soot and rain, his tie discarded. He looked exhausted, frantic, and completely unhinged. Isabella stepped out of the SUV. Luca froze at the bottom of the stone steps. For eighteen months, he had believed she abandoned him. He had believed she broke their family for another man. Now, he looked at her bruised face, her torn clothes, and the undeniable truth in her eyes. He didn't say a word. He crossed the distance between them in two massive strides and pulled her into a crushing, desperate embrace. Isabella buried her face in his chest, her hands gripping his shirt as if she would never let him go. Luca buried his face in her hair, his broad shoulders shaking with the force of his silent sobs. Teresa and I stood by the SUV, watching them. Then, a small, frantic voice shouted from the doorway. “Mom!” Daniel burst out of the mansion, sprinting down the steps. Isabella pulled away from Luca and dropped to her knees on the wet driveway. She caught Daniel as he threw himself into her arms, nearly knocking her over. “My baby,” Isabella wept, rocking him back and forth. “I’m here. I’m right here.” Daniel clung to her, crying openly. Luca knelt down beside them, wrapping his arms around both his wife and his son, pulling them into a tight, fiercely protective circle. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But the reunion was suddenly interrupted by a sharp, aggressive banging sound coming from inside the mansion. We all looked toward the open doors. The sound was coming from the study. Vanessa was still locked inside.
