Chapter 2 – THE BLOOD ON THE TIE

The silence in the dining room felt heavy, suffocating.

The offshore bank receipt trembled in Luca’s hand. Five million dollars. A direct payout from the Russian syndicate to Vanessa’s family.

“They sold us out,” Luca whispered, the words tasting like ash.

Nina stared at the receipt, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “Ben found this in her office. That’s why she went to the hospital. She knew he took it.”

“She didn’t just go to silence him,” Luca realized, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register. “She went to find out where he hid the proof.”

My mind raced back to the day Ben had come to fix the plumbing. I remembered him leaving the house, his toolbox clutched tightly in his hand, looking pale and deeply shaken. I had asked him if he was alright, and he had just forced a smile and told me to take care of his sister-in-law.

He had known he was carrying a death sentence.

“Luca,” Nina said, her voice shaking with a sudden, horrifying realization. “If Vanessa knew Ben had the receipt, and he wouldn’t tell her where it was…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. The implication was too monstrous.

Luca slowly lowered the receipt. He looked at his sister, the fierce, protective older brother completely eclipsed by the ruthless head of the Moretti family.

“How did Ben die, Nina?” Luca asked softly.

Nina’s face crumpled. “Heart failure. The doctors said his heart just gave out. He had a minor condition for years, but they said it suddenly accelerated.”

“Did they do an autopsy?”

“No,” Nina sobbed. “The lead cardiologist said it was unnecessary. It was a clear-cut medical event.”

“What was the doctor’s name?” Luca pressed, stepping closer to her.

Nina thought for a second, her brow furrowed in grief. “Dr. Sterling. Robert Sterling.”

Luca didn’t say a word. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. He put it on speaker and set it on the dining table.

It rang twice before a gruff voice answered.

“Boss,” Silvio, the head of Moretti security, answered.

“Silvio, I need you to run a name right now,” Luca ordered, his voice echoing in the quiet room. “Dr. Robert Sterling. Cardiology at Chicago Med.”

“Give me thirty seconds,” Silvio said. The sound of rapid typing came through the speaker.

I stood frozen near the bar cart, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm. Vanessa hadn’t just isolated Nina. She hadn’t just hidden a death.

“Got him, Boss,” Silvio’s voice crackled. “Clean record. Lots of debt, though. Looks like he owes a couple of sportsbooks a heavy chunk of change.”

“Check his recent deposits,” Luca commanded.

Another pause.

“Holy shit,” Silvio breathed. “He received a wire transfer of two hundred thousand dollars last Monday. Coming from a blind trust.”

“Trace the trust,” Luca demanded.

“It’s routed through three shell companies,” Silvio said, his voice tight. “But the parent company… Boss, it’s registered to Don Bellini.”

The room spun.

Nina collapsed back into her chair, a raw, agonizing wail tearing from her throat.

“She killed him,” Nina sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “Vanessa paid a doctor to kill my husband.”

Luca went completely still.

The phone call ended. Luca didn’t move. He stared at the blue silk tie resting on the table, the tie his best friend had worn to his wedding, the tie that had hidden the truth.

When Luca finally looked up, his dark eyes were completely empty of grief. There was only a terrifying, apocalyptic rage.

“Rachel,” Luca said, his voice deadly calm.

“Yes, sir,” I answered quickly.

“Pack a bag. Take Nina to the safe house on the South Side. Silvio will drive you.”

“Luca, no,” Nina cried, grabbing her brother’s arm. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to pay a visit to Dr. Sterling,” Luca stated, checking the magazine of the pistol holstered beneath his jacket. “And then I am going to burn the Bellini empire to the ground.”

“You can’t do this alone!” Nina pleaded. “If you attack them without proof, the Commission will turn on you!”

“I have the receipt,” Luca said coldly.

“It’s a piece of paper, Luca! They will claim you forged it to get out of the wedding!” Nina argued, desperation fueling her words. “You need a confession. You need Vanessa to admit what she did on tape, or the other families will slaughter you for breaking the truce!”

Luca paused. He knew she was right. In the syndicate, blood demanded blood, but starting a war without indisputable proof of betrayal was suicide.

Before Luca could formulate a plan, the heavy oak front doors of the mansion burst open.

“Luca!” a frantic voice yelled from the grand foyer.

We rushed out of the dining room.

Standing in the entryway, looking completely disheveled and out of breath, was Marco.

Marco was Luca’s cousin and one of his top lieutenants. He usually wore immaculate suits and a smug smile, but tonight, he looked terrified.

“Marco, what the hell are you doing here?” Luca demanded, his hand resting on his weapon.

“They’re coming, Luca,” Marco gasped, leaning against the banister. “The Russians.”

My blood ran cold.

“What do you mean?” Luca asked sharply.

“I was at the club downtown,” Marco explained rapidly. “One of our informants tipped me off. The Volkov syndicate just mobilized three tactical crews. They aren’t going after the Bellinis, Luca. They’re coming here.”

“Why would they come here?” Nina asked, panicked. “We didn’t take their money!”

“Because Vanessa set us up,” Luca realized, the brilliance of her treason finally clicking into place.

Luca turned to Marco. “Vanessa didn’t just sell our shipping routes to the Russians. She took their five million dollars, and she told them I was the one who authorized the sale.”

“She made it look like you took the bribe,” Marco breathed in horror. “And when you kicked her out tonight…”

“She told them I was backing out of the deal and keeping their money,” Luca finished, his jaw clenching.

Vanessa hadn’t just been trying to protect a secret. She had orchestrated a scenario where the Russians would wipe out the Moretti family, leaving the Bellinis to pick up the pieces and claim ignorance.

Suddenly, a loud, heavy THUD echoed from the front gates outside.

The security alarms blared, a piercing, high-pitched scream that shattered the silence of the mansion.

“They’re here,” Marco yelled, pulling his weapon.

“Rachel, get Nina to the panic room!” Luca roared, drawing his own gun. “Now!”

I grabbed Nina’s hand, pulling her toward the grand staircase. But as we took the first step, the massive stained-glass window above the front doors exploded inward.

A barrage of automatic gunfire ripped through the foyer.

“Get down!” Luca shouted, diving behind a marble pillar and returning fire into the darkness outside.

Marco laid down covering fire, screaming in Italian as the heavy oak doors were blown off their hinges by a breaching charge.

Smoke and dust filled the entryway.

I pulled Nina to the floor, covering her head as bullets chipped the marble stairs around us.

Through the smoke, a dozen men in dark tactical gear poured into the foyer, laser sights cutting through the dust.

“Hold them off!” Luca yelled to Marco over the deafening roar of gunfire.

But as the smoke cleared slightly, I saw something that made my heart stop completely.

Marco wasn’t shooting at the Russians.

He had turned around.

And he was aiming his pistol directly at Luca’s back.

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