Chapter 6 - A Maid Standing in the Crossfire and the Billionaire Who Refused to Let Her Bleed
Over the next two weeks, the city became a battlefield of money, power, and influence.
Luca deployed his full financial might.
Using the evidence from Antonio Moretti’s secret ledger, Julian Vance quietly filed federal injunctions against Bellini Shipping. Customs agents began seizing Bellini cargo containers at the Port of Chicago, discovering millions of dollars in unregistered contraband.
Carmine Bellini was hemorrhaging cash, losing nearly two million dollars a day.
Desperation made the Bellinis sloppy.
And dangerous.
I spent my days dividing time between managing Luca’s estate, overseeing the 24/7 reconstruction of Caruso’s Trattoria, and visiting my father at Northwestern Memorial.
With Luca’s private doctors administering advanced neurological therapy, my father was finally speaking again.
“Emma,” my father whispered one afternoon, his weak hand holding mine from his hospital bed. “Who is paying for all this? The doctors... the private suite... this costs a fortune.”
“A friend, Dad,” I smiled through tears. “A very good man who knows the truth about what happened at the reservoir in 2005.”
My father’s eyes widened with shock. “He knows about Bellini?”
“He has the original ledger, Dad. Your name is going to be cleared. Completely.”
My father broke down and cried, fifteen years of agony washing away in a matter of moments.
As I left the hospital that evening, accompanied by two of Luca’s guards, a sudden screech of tires echoed through the underground parking garage.
A black van blocked our exit path.
Before the guards could draw their weapons, four masked men in tactical gear jumped out, firing silenced pistols.
Both of Luca’s guards went down, hit in the shoulders and legs with non-lethal shock rounds.
I backed away, reaching into my purse for my phone, but a gloved hand grabbed my hair from behind, violently throwing me against the concrete pillar.
The mask came off one of the men.
It was Vanessa’s younger brother, Leo Bellini.
“You’re coming with us, maid,” Leo snarled, pressing a cold barrel against my temple. “Let’s see how tough Luca talks when we send him your fingers one by one.”
Suddenly, the roar of a high-performance engine shook the entire parking garage.
A heavy armored SUV slammed directly into the side of the kidnappers' van at fifty miles per hour, sending it spinning across the concrete with a deafening crash.
The driver’s door kicked open.
Luca stepped out into the fluorescent lights, holding a heavy-caliber firearm, looking like the angel of death himself.
“Get your hands off her,” Luca roared.
Leo panicked, dragging me backward, using me as a human shield. “Stay back, Moretti! I’ll blow her head off!”
Luca didn't slow down. He marched forward with absolute, terrifying confidence.
“If your finger twitches by a millimeter, Leo, I will bury you under the concrete of Taylor Street where nobody will ever find your bones.”
“I’m not playing, Luca!” Leo screamed, his hand shaking violently against my skull.
I looked into Luca’s eyes.
There was no fear in them—only a silent command.
Duck.
I dropped all my weight instantly to the floor.
A split second later, a single, deafening gunshot rang out.
Leo Bellini screamed in agony as the gun was shot clean out of his hand, blood spraying across the pillar.
Before the other men could react, Marco and a dozen Moretti enforcers swarmed from the shadows, pinning every single attacker to the ground with overwhelming force.
Luca didn't look at the captured men.
He dropped his weapon, fell to his knees beside me, and pulled me violently into his chest.
“Emma,” he breathed, his heart pounding like a war drum against my ear. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?”
His hands were trembling as he checked my face, my neck, my arms for injuries.
I looked at this man—a billionaire feared by an entire city—shaking because of me.
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“I’m okay, Luca,” I whispered, burying my face into his wool coat. “I’m okay. You came.”
“I will always come for you,” Luca murmured into my hair, holding me tighter than life itself. “Always.”
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