Chapter 12 - The Devil Returns From The Ashes
I couldn't breathe.
Matteo Moretti was alive.
The man Luca had watched burn in a car five years ago was standing ten feet away from us, puffing on a cigar.
The left side of his face was heavily scarred, the skin pulled tight and shiny, but his eyes were exactly like Luca’s. Cold. Calculating.
"You're dead," Luca whispered, stepping in front of me to shield me.
Matteo laughed. The sound was dry and grating, like metal scraping against stone.
"I was," Matteo said, taking a step forward. "For about three minutes. The paramedics pulled me out after you walked away. It cost me every dime I had to pay them to put a John Doe in that casket and keep their mouths shut."
Outside, the pounding on the heavy metal door stopped.
Matteo snapped his fingers.
"My men," Matteo said casually, gesturing toward the door. "Not Vanessa's. She thought she was running this little coup. She didn't know I was pulling her strings the whole time."
My mind spun. The catering change. The blackmail. The fake ledger in the basement.
It wasn't just Vanessa. It was Matteo. Orchestrating his own resurrection to destroy his brother.
"Why?" Luca demanded, his voice steadying, the initial shock wearing off.
"You stole my throne, Luca," Matteo snarled, dropping the cigar and crushing it under his boot. "You took my family. My money. My city. And you left me to burn!"
"You ordered a hit on our father!" Luca yelled back. "You were going to sell out the entire syndicate to save yourself!"
"It's business!" Matteo roared.
He pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it directly at Luca's chest.
"And this is business too," Matteo said. "The Feds are tearing apart your house right now. Tomorrow, you'll be indicted for murder and racketeering. But you won't make it to trial. You'll die in this alley, resisting arrest by 'Vanessa’s men'."
Matteo’s eyes shifted to me. A sickening smile spread across his scarred face.
"And the little maid goes with you," he purred. "A tragic love story."
"Leave her out of this," Luca said, raising his own gun. "This is between us."
"You have two bullets, Luca," Matteo mocked. "I have four men outside and a full clip. You lose."
"I only need one bullet for you," Luca said coldly.
The tension in the room was a physical weight. I stood behind Luca, my hand gripping the heavy silver ring on my thumb.
The ring.
“Under my protection.”
I looked around the dark warehouse.
To our left, near the wall, was a massive electrical panel. The heavy breaker switch was rusted, but it was in the "ON" position, feeding power to the large overhead industrial fans that were currently still.
"Luca," I whispered, barely moving my lips. "Drop."
Luca didn't question me.
He had learned to trust me.
Luca dropped to his knees.
I didn't hesitate. I threw the heavy silver Moretti crest ring as hard as I could at the electrical panel.
The solid silver slammed into the exposed, live copper wiring of the main breaker.
A massive explosion of blue sparks erupted, instantly short-circuiting the system.
The warehouse went pitch black.
"Shoot them!" Matteo screamed in the dark.
Gunfire tore through the space where we had just been standing.
But Luca was already moving.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the back of the warehouse, navigating the dark with lethal precision.
"The tunnel," he whispered.
We found the heavy iron grate set into the floor. Luca heaved it open.
"Get in," he ordered.
I scrambled down the rusted ladder into the damp, echoing sewer tunnel. Luca followed, pulling the grate shut just as flashlights swept across the warehouse floor above us.
We ran.
The water was ankle-deep, but we didn't stop. We ran for what felt like miles, the sounds of Matteo’s men fading behind us.
Finally, we saw moonlight filtering through a drainage pipe.
We pushed through, tumbling out onto the muddy banks of the Chicago River.
Hidden under the pier was a sleek, black speedboat.
Luca helped me into the boat, his breathing heavy. He found the keys under the visor, just like he promised.
The engine roared to life, a low, powerful hum.
Luca untied the dock lines and took the wheel.
As we sped out onto the dark, open water, the city skyline glowing in the distance, I collapsed into one of the leather seats, shivering.
Luca engaged the autopilot and knelt in front of me.
He took off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around my shoulders.
"We can't go back, can we?" I asked, tears finally falling.
Luca shook his head slowly. "No. The feds have the house. Matteo has the streets. Chicago is lost."
He reached up and touched the gold spoon necklace resting on my collarbone.
"I am so sorry I dragged you into this, Emma," he whispered.
I looked at the man who had just given up his entire empire, his entire life, to keep me alive.
"You didn't drag me," I said, wiping my eyes. "I chose to stay."
Luca looked at me, the coldness of the mafia boss completely gone, replaced by a fierce, undeniable love.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
May you like
Luca looked out at the dark water ahead.
"To the only place Matteo can't reach us," he said softly. "Italy. It's time for you to meet the rest of the family."
