Chapter 14 - Shadows in the Sanctuary
Midnight cloaked the Moretti estate in a tense, claustrophobic quiet.
Luna couldn't sleep. The phantom smell of gunpowder from the docks seemed trapped in her lungs, and Gianna’s parting words rang through her mind like a death knell. *Dante Vance wants the maid.*
She wore a simple silk robe, wandering through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion. It was strange how familiar the house was, yet how utterly foreign it felt now. For years, she had navigated these hallways carrying baskets of clean laundry or trays of silver polish, keeping her head bowed so the wealthy mobsters who visited wouldn't notice her existence.
Now, every guard she passed snapped to attention, whispering, *"Signora."*
As she rounded the corner toward the grand kitchen, she heard the faint, metallic clinking of pots.
Luna frowned. Mrs. Gable, the head cook, always locked the pantry at ten o'clock sharp. The kitchen staff had strict orders to clear the lower levels before midnight due to the heightened security protocols.
Keeping her bare feet silent against the cold tiles, Luna crept to the doorway and peered through the frosted glass panel.
A man was standing by the industrial espresso machine. He was dressed in the crisp white uniform of a house steward, but his movements were wrong. A real servant moved with casual familiarity; this man moved with rigid, frantic haste.
Luna watched as the man pulled a tiny glass vial from the seam of his cuff. He carefully unscrewed the cap and tilted two clear drops into the silver carafe of decaffeinated roast—the exact blend Luca drank every night when working in his study.
Luna’s breath caught in her throat.
*Aconite.* Monkshood. It was odorless, tasteless, and caused cardiac arrest within minutes—a death that would look entirely like a sudden heart attack, indistinguishable from the stress of a mob war.
The man capped the vial and slid it back into his sleeve, reaching for the silver tray to carry it upstairs.
Luna didn't scream. Screaming would give him time to run or take a hostage. Instead, she reached to the antique credenza beside her and picked up a heavy, solid bronze decorative candleholder.
As the steward pushed the swinging kitchen door open, turning his back to her to balance the tray, Luna stepped forward and struck him across the back of his head with all the strength in her body.
The heavy bronze cracked against his skull with a dull thud.
The man gasped, dropping the silver tray with an almighty crash of shattering porcelain and splashing hot coffee, before collapsing heavily onto the marble floor.
The sound immediately alerted the perimeter. Heavy combat boots echoed down the hall within seconds.
"Hold! Weapons ready!" Enzo’s voice barked as half a dozen armed guards stormed around the corner, their assault rifles raised.
They stopped dead in their tracks.
Luna stood in the middle of the hallway, barefoot, holding a bloody bronze candlestick, her silk robe spattered with black coffee. The steward lay groaning at her feet, bleeding profusely from his scalp.
Luca pushed through the guards, his eyes widening in sheer panic. "Luna!"
He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, grabbing her shoulders, his gaze scanning every inch of her. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I’m fine," Luna breathed, letting the heavy candlestick drop from her trembling fingers. She pointed toward the shattered porcelain on the floor. "Check the carafe. And check his left cuff. He has a vial of poison."
Enzo immediately knelt by the groaning steward, ripping the man’s sleeve open. A small glass vial rolled out onto the floor. Enzo unscrewed it, sniffed the rim cautiously, and looked up at Luca with a pale face.
"Monkshood, Boss. Concentrated."
Luca turned back to the steward on the floor. The fury that settled over Luca’s face wasn't loud or explosive; it was a cold, terrifying stillness that sucked the air out of the hallway.
He recognized the man. It was Marco, a servant who had worked in the Moretti household for over five years.
"Who paid you, Marco?" Luca asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Marco spat blood onto the white tiles, glaring up at Luca with delirious defiance. "The Lion is dying... and you put a servant whore on the throne! Chicago offered me ten million to end this embarrassment! You're not a Don... you're a fool blinded by a skirt!"
Luca didn't waste his breath answering. He reached to his hip, drew his Kimber, and pressed the muzzle directly between Marco's eyes.
"No, Luca!" Luna grabbed his wrist.
Luca’s green eyes locked onto hers, burning with lethal fire. "He tried to murder me in my own home, Luna. He dies."
"He dies, yes," Luna said, her voice shaking slightly but steadying as she spoke. "But not yet. If he was in contact with Chicago, he has a handler. He has a drop location. If you shoot him now, you kill your only lead into how Dante Vance bypassed your perimeter security."
Luca stared at her. The wild, bloodthirsty rage in his eyes slowly receded, replaced by a deep, dark admiration.
He lowered the hammer of the gun and slipped it back into his holster.
"Enzo," Luca ordered without looking away from Luna. "Take him to the basement. Call our interrogator. Keep him alive until he sings the entire phone book."
"Yes, Boss." Enzo grabbed Marco by the collar, dragging him away like a sack of trash, while the other guards rushed to clean the spilled venom from the floor.
Luca stepped closer to Luna, his large hands reaching up to cradle her face. His thumbs gently stroked her cheekbones, feeling the adrenaline-fueled tremor beneath her skin.
"Twice," Luca murmured, his voice thick with raw emotion. "Twice in twenty-four hours you have kept me from the grave."
"I told you," Luna whispered, leaning into his touch, exhausted. "I know this house better than anyone. They think I'm weak because I was invisible. But invisible things see everything."
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Luca leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing in the scent of her skin. "Tomorrow, the Chicago envoy arrives for the summit. You don't leave my side, Luna. Not for a single second. Because if they try to take you from me... I will turn this entire continent into a graveyard."
***
