Chapter 3 - THE GUEST ROOM
"Everyone out."
Luca’s voice didn't rise, but it carried the absolute weight of a king giving his final order. The guests didn't need to be told twice. Chairs scraped. Coats were grabbed. Within three minutes, the grand dining room was entirely empty, save for five people: Luca, Vanessa, Adrian, Allison, and me.
I backed toward the kitchen doors, desperate to vanish.
"Emily, stay," Luca said without turning around.
I froze. "Sir, I shouldn't—"
"You noticed the whisper. You noticed the fear," Luca said, stepping toward Vanessa. "You see things other people choose to ignore. Stay."
Vanessa was shaking now, the haughty mafia fiancée completely stripped away. She looked like a cornered animal.
Allison was staring at Adrian, the child's drawing trembling in her hands. "You have a child?" she whispered. "Seventeen years of marriage... we tried for so long. We spent thousands on treatments. And you have a five-year-old son with someone else?"
"Allie, I'm so sorry. His mother was a waitress downtown. She passed away last year. I’ve been paying for his care privately. Nobody knew."
"I knew," Vanessa spat, her confidence suddenly flaring again like a dying ember. She sneered at Allison. "I found out. And I used it. Because men like Adrian are weak. They always have a soft spot you can press."
Luca stopped a few feet from her. "Why?"
"Why what, Luca? Why ally with the Falcones? Why plan to have you shot at the altar?" Vanessa laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "Because ten years ago, when your father was fighting the Falcones for the ports, my brother was caught in the crossfire. He was nineteen. You sent him to drive that truck."
Luca’s expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened.
"The Falcones offered me a deal," Vanessa said, lifting her chin. "I marry you. I let them in. They give me the ports, and I get the vengeance my family deserves."
Luca stared at her. Then he looked at the silver lighter in his hand.
"You're lying, Vanessa."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't keep this lighter as a trophy," Luca said softly. "The Falcones wouldn't give this up to a pawn. This is a family heirloom. It belongs to the Falcone bloodline now."
He stepped closer, invading her space until she was forced to look up at him.
"Who gave this to you, Vanessa?" Luca demanded. "Answer me."
Before she could speak, the heavy oak doors of the dining room creaked open.
A man stepped into the room. He was in his sixties, with silver hair and a sharp, tailored suit. He had been sitting at the far end of the table all night, quietly eating his steak.
It was Marcus Bellini. Vanessa’s father.
May you like
"She didn't get it from a lover, Luca," Marcus said, stepping into the dim light of the chandelier. He reached into his own coat and pulled out a matching silver cigar cutter. The eagle and the snake.
"She got it from her uncle."
