Chapter 7 - The Maid with Doctor's HandsThe mansion was secure.
The Chicago police would never arrive.
The Moretti family handled their own affairs.
Two hours later, the smoke had cleared.
A private trauma surgical team had set up a sterile field in Luca's master bedroom.
They removed the bullet from Luca's shoulder under local anesthesia.
He refused general anesthesia.
He wanted to be awake.
He wanted to oversee the aftermath.
I sat in an armchair in the corner of the room, my hands scrubbed clean, wearing a fresh cotton shirt someone had lent me.
The lead surgeon stitched the wound with neat, precise sutures.
“You're lucky, Mr. Moretti,” the surgeon said, adjusting his glasses. “Whoever packed this wound saved your life. Three more minutes without pressure and you would have bled out.”
Luca’s dark eyes shifted across the room to me.
“I know,” Luca said quietly.
The surgeon finished bandaging his shoulder.
“Rest for forty-eight hours. No heavy lifting.”
“Leave us,” Luca commanded softly.
The surgical team packed their instruments and slipped out of the room.
Daniel stood by the door.
“Boss, Bernardo is secured in the wine cellar. What are your orders?”
“Wait for me there,” Luca replied. “And Sienna?”
“Safe at St. Jude's private wing under eight guards. She is awake. Her vitals are completely stable.”
Luca closed his eyes and let out a long breath of pure relief.
“Thank God.”
Daniel bowed his head and left, closing the heavy doors behind him.
The room fell quiet.
Luca sat on the edge of the large bed.
His broad torso was bare, wrapped in thick white medical bandages.
He looked at me.
“Come here, Emma.”
I stood up slowly.
My legs felt like jelly after the terror of the night.
I walked over to the bed and stopped two feet in front of him.
“How is the pain, Mr. Moretti?”
“Call me Luca.”
I hesitated.
“Luca.”
He reached out his uninjured right arm.
He caught my wrist.
His grip was surprisingly gentle.
He pulled me closer until I was standing between his knees.
He looked up into my eyes.
“Why didn't you run when the doors opened?”
“Where would I go?”
“Anywhere. You could have run to the gardens. You could have hidden in the cellar.”
“You were dying,” I said simply.
“I'm a killer, Emma. I run the Chicago syndicate. People cross the street when they see my car.”
I looked at his face.
The sharp jawline.
The dark stubble.
The deep scar near his temple.
“I saw a man who would die to protect his sister,” I whispered. “That’s not someone I leave to bleed out on the floor.”
Luca’s chest rose and fell heavily.
He reached up and touched a strand of hair that had fallen across my forehead.
“You are remarkable.”
“I’m just a maid.”
“Never say that again,” he growled softly. “You will never wear an apron in this house again.”
“Luca, I have bills. My father—”
“Your father was transferred twenty minutes ago,” Luca interrupted smoothly.
I froze.
“What?”
“To the Northwestern Memorial VIP Neuro-Rehabilitation Center.”
My jaw dropped.
“That’s... that’s the best stroke center in the country. It costs fifty thousand dollars a month!”
“Paid for five years in advance,” Luca said, his voice completely steady. “With private round-the-clock physical therapists. And a private suite for you whenever you want to visit him.”
A sob caught in my throat.
I covered my mouth with both hands.
For two years, I had drowned under medical debt.
I had skipped meals.
I had worked sixteen-hour shifts until my feet bled.
And in one sentence, he had lifted the entire weight from my shoulders.
“Why would you do that?” I cried, tears spilling over my fingers.
Luca pulled my hands away from my face.
He held them in his warm, calloused palms.
“Because you saved my family. And in my world, loyalty like yours is priceless.”
He stood up slowly.
He towered over me again, but there was no fear now.
Only a strange, electric heat in the air between us.
“Now,” Luca said, his eyes turning cold and dark once more. “I have a family matter to settle in the cellar.”
He looked at me.
“Would you like to come with me, Emma?”
I wiped my tears.
May you like
“Why would you want me there?”
“Because Bernardo needs to know who destroyed his perfect plan.”
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