Chapter 6 – The Unraveling
Vanessa’s screams stopped instantly, choked off by sheer shock.
Adrian blinked, the gun wavering slightly against his sister’s head. “What?”
Luca closed the velvet box with a sharp snap.
“I said, shoot her,” Luca repeated, his voice devoid of any human emotion. “You think I care about a woman who conspired to steal my niece and murder my brother-in-law? You think her life means anything to me now?”
Vanessa let out a hollow, agonizing whimper. “Luca… please…”
“She helped you steal my money,” Luca continued, taking a slow step forward. “She lied to my face every single day. She watched my sister cry herself to sleep for four months, knowing exactly why she was a widow. If you pull that trigger, Adrian, you’re just doing my job for me.”
Adrian’s hands were shaking so badly the gun rattled against Vanessa’s skull.
“Get back!” Adrian yelled, taking a clumsy step backward toward the door. “I’ll do it! I swear to God!”
“Do it,” Luca challenged, stepping closer.
Adrian looked at Luca’s dead, empty eyes. He realized the terrifying truth. Luca Moretti was not bluffing. He genuinely wanted Vanessa dead, and he was more than happy to let Adrian take the fall for it.
The realization broke Adrian.
His grip on Vanessa loosened for a fraction of a second.
That was all Marco needed.
The massive security guard didn’t even draw a weapon. He stepped out from the hallway, lunged forward, and grabbed Adrian’s wrist with a sickening crack.
Adrian screamed as his arm was snapped backward. The gun clattered harmlessly to the thick carpet. Marco slammed Adrian face-first into the wall, pinning him instantly.
Vanessa collapsed to the floor, sobbing hysterically, gasping for air.
Luca didn’t even look at her.
He walked over to the dropped gun, picked it up with a handkerchief, and slipped it into his pocket. Then he looked down at the forged guardianship papers scattered across the floor.
Olivia walked forward.
She wasn’t trembling anymore. She didn’t look like the broken, grieving widow who had stood in the dining room thirty minutes ago apologizing for spilling her drink.
She looked like a Moretti.
Olivia knelt down. She picked up the forged documents.
She looked at Adrian, whose face was pressed against the expensive wallpaper, groaning in pain.
“You thought I was weak,” Olivia said quietly. “You thought because I was crying, I was defeated. But I was only crying because I loved him. And you don’t know what love is.”
Olivia tore the papers perfectly in half.
Then she tore them again. And again.
She dropped the shredded pieces onto Vanessa’s lap.
“Get them out of my house,” Luca told Marco.
Marco hauled Adrian up by his broken arm. Adrian screamed again, but Marco merely shoved him toward the door. Two more security guards appeared at the top of the stairs, grabbing Vanessa by her arms and hauling her to her feet.
“Luca, please!” Vanessa begged, her expensive dress torn, her makeup ruined, her life entirely destroyed. “Where are you sending us? Luca, please don’t kill me!”
Luca turned his back on her.
“I’m not going to kill you, Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice echoing in the hallway. “I’m turning you both over to the police. Along with the gun Adrian just pulled, the forged documents, and the blood-stained watch. You’ll spend the rest of your lives in a federal prison. And you will pray every single day that you stay there. Because if you ever get out, I will be waiting.”
The guards dragged them away. Their screams faded down the stairs, followed by the heavy slam of the front doors.
The master suite was finally silent.
Luca stood still for a moment. Then he slowly turned around.
He looked at his sister. He looked at Eleanor. And he looked at the sleeping baby.
Luca let out a long, heavy breath, the terrifying mafia boss suddenly vanishing, leaving only an exhausted, protective older brother.
He walked over to Olivia and wrapped his arms around her.
Olivia buried her face in his chest and finally wept. Not from sorrow, but from relief. The heavy, suffocating weight of the lies had finally been lifted.
I stood in the hallway, tears streaming down my face. I turned to quietly slip downstairs, knowing my place, knowing it was time to clean the dining room.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
Luca looked at me over his sister’s shoulder.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Don’t go downstairs,” he said softly. “Come here.”
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