Chapter 2 - THE HEAVY DOORS
The heavy oak doors of the grand ballroom slammed shut with a deafening thud.
The echoing click of the deadbolts felt like a gunshot in the silent room.
Sixty of Chicago’s wealthiest elites were suddenly trapped inside the Moretti mansion. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The only sound was the faint clinking of crystal chandeliers swaying above us.
Luca Moretti didn't take his eyes off his older brother.
“Marco,” Luca commanded, his voice deadly calm, echoing across the marble floor. “Nobody leaves this room. Collect every cell phone. Cut the main phone lines to the estate.”
Marco, the hulking head of security, stepped forward from the shadows. “Right away, Boss.”
Vanessa’s face lost all its color. The diamonds on her neck trembled as she took a frantic step toward Luca.
“Luca, you can’t do this!” she cried, her voice cracking into a shrill panic. “You’re holding my guests hostage over the delusions of an old woman and a con artist!”
Luca slowly turned his head to look at her. The warmth that usually filled his eyes when he looked at his fiancée was entirely gone. It was replaced by the cold, calculating stare of the man who ran the city’s underground.
“Your guests, Vanessa?” he asked softly. “This is my house. And you just spent the last hour treating my mother like a stray dog.”
Margaret sat quietly in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She wasn't crying anymore. In fact, she looked more at peace than I had ever seen her in my ten months of working here.
Adrian—the man I had known as Richard Hayes—stepped closer to his mother. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Margaret reached up and covered his scarred hand with her own.
I stood paralyzed just a few feet away, my uniform apron still clutching the gold cufflink Margaret had pressed into my palm earlier.
Vanessa spun toward me, her eyes flashing with venom. “This is your fault, you little rat! I told you to get her out of here!”
Before I could brace myself, Vanessa lunged at me, raising her hand to strike my face.
I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting the blow.
It never landed.
Adrian had intercepted her wrist in mid-air. His grip was effortless but immovable.
“Do not touch the girl,” Adrian said, his voice dropping an octave. It sounded terrifyingly similar to Luca’s. “She was the only one in this room showing my mother any respect.”
Vanessa yanked her arm away, stumbling backward into a table of champagne flutes. The glass shattered across the floor, the sound piercing the tension.
“You’re insane!” Vanessa screamed, pointing at Adrian. “My father is Victor Bellini! When he finds out you’ve locked me in here, he’ll destroy your entire family!”
“Your father is already here, Vanessa,” Adrian said quietly.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a heavy, tarnished silver pocket watch. It didn’t look like it belonged with his expensive tuxedo.
He walked over and placed it gently into my trembling hands.
“Emily,” Adrian said softly. “Open it.”
I swallowed hard, my thumbs finding the latch. I pressed it. The watch sprang open.
There was no clock face inside.
Instead, tucked perfectly into the circular frame, was a tiny, faded photograph of a woman standing in front of a small brick house.
My breath caught in my throat. My knees nearly gave out.
“That’s…” I stammered, staring at the picture. “That’s my mother.”
Luca stepped closer, his brow furrowing. “What does Emily’s mother have to do with this?”
Adrian didn't look at Luca. He kept his eyes locked on mine.
“Because twenty-two years ago, when the Bellini family arranged my disappearance, they didn't put me in an orphanage,” Adrian said. “They paid a struggling nurse to hide me in her basement. A nurse who thought she was protecting an abused child, not a kidnapped heir.”
I stared at him, my mind spinning. My mother had been a private nurse. She died when I was ten, leaving me to care for my younger brother, Leo.
“She didn't know who I was,” Adrian continued, his voice softening. “But when she found out the truth, she tried to return me. She tried to tell your father, Luca.”
Margaret closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her wrinkled cheek. “And Victor Bellini made sure she never got the chance.”
Vanessa’s face morphed from panic to sheer terror. “You’re lying! My father is a legitimate businessman!”
“Then why,” Adrian asked, turning to Vanessa with a chilling smile, “is your father’s private helicopter landing on the East Lawn right now?”
The heavy hum of chopper blades suddenly shook the mansion windows. The vibration rattled the floorboards beneath my feet.
But as I stared down at the photograph of my mother, my heart hammered against my ribs for a completely different reason.
Tucked behind my mother’s photo in the silver watch was a tiny, folded piece of paper.
I pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a recent hospital receipt.
May you like
For my little brother, Leo.
Signed by Victor Bellini.
