Chapter 9 – The Ghost in the Mailbox

It had been six months since the night the glass shattered and the guns went quiet.

Spring had arrived in the city, bringing sunlight through the massive windows of the Moretti estate. The heavy, oppressive atmosphere that had choked the house for years was gone. In its place was the chaotic, beautiful noise of a real family.

I stood at the kitchen island, chopping strawberries for Caleb’s oatmeal. Through the window, I watched Arthur sitting on a bench in the gardens, laughing as he taught fifteen-year-old Leo how to whittle a piece of cedar. Caleb was running circles around them, chasing a golden retriever puppy Matteo had brought home two weeks ago.

I smiled, a deep, settling peace warming my chest. Matteo had kept his word. The illegal businesses were dismantled. The dangerous men in dark suits had been replaced by corporate lawyers in gray ones. We were safe.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. A warm kiss pressed against the side of my neck.

“Good morning,” Matteo murmured, his voice deep and raspy with sleep. He rested his chin on my shoulder, smelling of expensive soap and fresh coffee.

I leaned back against his solid chest, smiling. “Good morning. You’re up late for a retired mafia boss.”

Matteo chuckled, his hands resting over mine on the counter. He turned me around in his arms. He wasn’t wearing a suit today, just a soft gray Henley and jeans. He looked younger. Happier.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

My breath caught. “Matteo…”

“It’s not a ring,” he smiled, opening the box. Inside rested a delicate, beautiful silver bracelet, embedded with a single, flawless diamond. “Happy anniversary, Clara. Six months since you broke my dining room table and changed my life.”

I laughed, tears pricking my eyes, as he clasped the cool metal around my wrist. I touched his cheek, pulling him down for a slow, deep kiss. It still amazed me how gentle this terrifying man could be when he held me.

“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. The estate manager walked into the foyer, holding a stack of morning mail.

“Good morning, Mr. Moretti, Miss Clara,” the manager said, setting the mail on the hall table. “Just the usual post. Though, there was one strange envelope left directly in the mailbox outside the gates. No postage.”

Matteo’s body tensed instantly. The relaxed man I was just holding vanished, replaced by the hyper-vigilant protector. He let go of me and walked to the hall table, picking up a plain, unmarked white envelope.

I followed him, a cold knot forming in my stomach. “Who is it from?”

Matteo didn’t answer. He ripped the envelope open. Inside was a single piece of heavy cardstock, and a small, metallic object that clattered onto the hardwood floor.

I gasped.

It was a silver bullet. The casing was engraved with the letter B.

Matteo stared at the bullet, his jaw locking so tight the muscle jumped beneath his skin. He unfolded the cardstock.

I read it over his shoulder.

“Did you really think a Cartel prison could hold me, my sweet boy? The game isn’t over. I want my house back. And I want the servant gone by Friday, or the next bullet goes in her son.”

The peace of the morning shattered into a million pieces.

Beatrice was alive. She was out. And she was coming for us.

“Matteo,” I whispered, panic rising in my throat as I looked out the window at Caleb playing in the grass. “We have to hide him. We have to go.”

“No,” Matteo growled, crushing the letter in his massive fist. He kicked the silver bullet across the floor. “You are not running. This is your home.”

“She threatened my son!” I cried, grabbing his arm. “She killed David! If she’s out, she has backing! We can’t fight her if she’s willing to kill a child!”

Matteo turned to me, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying, cold fury. He grabbed my shoulders, holding me steady.

“Listen to me, Clara,” he said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Six months ago, I promised you that you would never have to be afraid again. I meant it.”

He walked over to the security panel on the wall and hit the emergency lockdown button. Steel shutters instantly slid down over the windows. The alarms chirped once, signaling the perimeter was armed.

Outside, Arthur looked up at the house, realizing what the shutters meant. He immediately grabbed Caleb and Leo and started rushing them toward the back door.

Matteo picked up his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t called in six months.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Matteo said into the receiver, his voice devoid of all warmth. “Call the boys. Tell them retirement is over. We have a pest control problem.”

He hung up the phone and looked at me.

“Pack a bag for the kids,” Matteo ordered. “I’m not waiting for her to come to my house. I’m going to go find her.”