Chapter 17 - A Threat at the Gates
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Before we could even step out the back doors to head toward the garage, Bruno’s voice crackled violently over the security radio clipped to Luca’s belt.
“Boss, we have a situation at the main gate.”
Luca grabbed the radio, his entire demeanor hardening instantly. “Report, Bruno.”
“It’s Vanessa Bellini. She’s outside the front gates in a sedan. She’s demanding to speak to you. Says she left something behind.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Tell her to turn around, or my men will shoot out her tires and drag her out of the car.”
“She says she’s not leaving until she speaks to the maid, Boss,” Bruno added, his voice hesitant.
Luca looked at me. I felt a cold chill run down my spine. Why would she want to talk to me?
“I’ll go,” I said, placing my coffee mug on the table.
“No,” Luca said immediately, stepping in front of me. “She’s desperate and dangerous.”
“I’m on your property, behind a ten-foot steel gate,” I reasoned, trying to keep my voice steady. “If I don't see what she wants, she’ll just keep trying to find a way in. Let me talk to her.”
Luca stared at me for a long moment, evaluating my resolve. Finally, he nodded once. “I’m coming with you. But you stay behind the iron.”
We walked down the long, sweeping driveway toward the massive wrought-iron front gates of the estate. The morning air was freezing, biting at my face.
Parked just outside the heavy steel bars was a black Mercedes. Vanessa stood next to it, wearing a designer trench coat, her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. She looked exhausted, her makeup smeared from crying, but her eyes were completely feral.
When she saw me walking down the driveway next to Luca, she gripped the iron bars with both hands.
“You ruined my life!” Vanessa screamed, her voice cracking.
I stopped a safe distance away, staying behind the protective barrier. “You ruined your own life, Vanessa. You threw a child’s gift into a fire.”
“I was trying to save this family!” she yelled, glaring at Luca. “You don't know what’s under that garage, Luca! The Falcones do! If you dig it up, they will burn this entire city down to get it back!”
“What did my father bury, Vanessa?” Luca demanded, his voice a low, lethal rumble.
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Vanessa smiled—a twisted, broken expression. “Something that proves Antonio Moretti wasn't the saint you think he was. Dig it up, Luca. Tear the boards up. And watch your empire crumble.”
She spat at the iron gates, got back into her Mercedes, and sped off into the fog.
