Chapter 4 - The Return
"You can't do this!" Vanessa screamed as Luca pocketed the ring. "Luca! You signed agreements with my father! The construction permits for the harbor—"
"Consider them burned," Luca said without blinking. "Dante!"
The heavy oak doors swung open immediately. Dante, Luca’s head of security, stepped in with two stone-faced guards behind him.
"Escort Miss Bellini off the property," Luca ordered. "Pack her belongings. Have them delivered to her father's estate in the Hamptons. If she ever sets foot past the front gates again, treat her as a hostile intruder."
"Luca, please!" Vanessa’s voice turned desperate as Dante took her firmly by the elbow. "I was just stressed! I was trying to make sure everything was perfect for our wedding! I'm sorry! Tell her I'm sorry!"
Luca didn't even look at her. He waved his hand dismissively.
Dante hauled her out of the room, her designer heels dragging across the parquet floor, her frantic apologies echoing down the corridor until the heavy front doors slammed shut.
The dining room went quiet again. The shattered crystal glittered like diamonds in the rug.
Elena stood with her hands clasped, tears streaming down her weathered face. "Mr. Moretti... Mrs. Alvarez... she was heartbroken when she left. She thought you despised her."
"Dante already has her address," Luca said gently, his voice transforming completely now that Vanessa was gone. "I am sending a car for her tonight. Her husband’s medical bills at St. Jude’s will be handled entirely by the family fund, and her position as head chef is restored with a permanent twenty percent raise."
Elena pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, sobbing with relief. "God bless you, sir."
"Go home to your sister, Elena," Luca added. "Take two months paid leave. When she is resting comfortably, you may return. Not a day before."
"Thank you, sir. Thank you." Elena bowed repeatedly before hurrying out toward the staff quarters.
Now, only Luca and I remained in the vast room.
I stood clutching my empty apron pockets, my uniform wrinkled, feeling utterly overwhelmed. The man standing before me was responsible for half the underground empire in the tri-state area—a man politicians feared and street bosses knelt before. Yet he was looking at me like I was made of fragile glass.
"Hannah," Luca said softly, walking over to me.
"Mr. Moretti... I didn't know," I choked out. "My father... he never told me."
"He wanted you to live a normal life. Free from the blood on our hands," Luca said, pulling a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and extending it to me. "I honored his wish. But allowing Vanessa to treat you like that... that is a failure I will carry on my conscience."
"You didn't know what she was doing," I said, wiping my wet cheeks.
"A Don is supposed to know everything that happens within his walls," he replied darkly. Then, his jaw tightened as he looked at the trash can near the kitchen door. "Your son. What is his name?"
"Leo," I whispered.
May you like
Luca pulled out his phone, dialed a direct line, and brought it to his ear. "Matteo. I need Dr. Rossi and a specialized pediatric nutrition courier at 442 Elmhurst Street within twenty minutes. Ensure the infant has top-tier organic formula, medical evaluation, and around-the-clock monitoring. If the child runs a fever of half a degree, you call me directly. Move."
He hung up before the person on the other end could even confirm.
