THE MAN AT THE END OF THE TABLE

Chapter 5 – THE BLACK SUV IN THE SNOW

I stared at the glowing screen of my phone, the words burning into my retinas.

The brakes weren’t cut by accident.

Vanessa was claiming that Dominic’s crash wasn’t just a result of a distraction. She was claiming someone had tampered with the car. And she was warning me that the highway tonight wasn’t safe.

Was she lying? Trying to plant a seed of paranoia before she was thrown out into the cold? Or did she actually know something worse?

“Natalie?”

I jumped, nearly dropping the container of chocolate strawberries.

Luca stood in the kitchen doorway. He had changed out of his formal suit into dark jeans and a heavy wool sweater. He looked less like a mafia boss and more like a man desperate to meet his family.

“Are you ready?” he asked, noticing my pale face. “Is everything alright?”

I gripped my phone tightly in my pocket. I looked at Luca. He had just discovered his fiancée was a monster, his brother had been murdered, and he had a nine-year-old nephew waiting for him.

If I showed him this text now, it would break whatever fragile hope was holding him together.

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just grabbing some extra napkins. The basket is ready.”

Margaret was waiting in the grand foyer, wrapped in a thick cashmere blanket Luca had given her. She looked exhausted but deeply at peace.

We walked out to the circular driveway. The night air was brutally cold, the wind whipping off Lake Michigan. A massive, armored black SUV was idling near the steps. Luca’s head of security, a quiet man named Thomas, was behind the wheel.

“I’ll drive, Thomas,” Luca said, taking the keys. “Get some sleep. We won’t be back until morning.”

Thomas hesitated. “Sir, it’s a ninety-mile drive in the dark. Let me take you.”

“I need to do this myself,” Luca insisted softly.

Thomas nodded and stepped away.

I helped Margaret into the plush leather back seat, making sure the blanket was tucked around her legs. I climbed into the passenger seat up front.

Luca got behind the wheel. The heavy doors sealed shut, locking out the howling wind.

As we pulled out of the estate gates and merged onto the deserted interstate heading north, the silence in the car was surprisingly comfortable. Margaret fell asleep within twenty minutes, her head resting gently against the window.

Luca kept his eyes on the road. The dashboard lights illuminated the strong, tired lines of his face.

“Thank you, Natalie,” he said quietly, not looking away from the highway.

“For what, sir?”

“For stepping in front of Vanessa. For getting Margaret the food. For staying.”

I looked at him. “I didn’t do anything special, Mr. Moretti.”

“Luca,” he corrected gently. “Outside of that house, it’s just Luca.”

My heart did a strange, sudden flutter. “Luca.”

He glanced at me, a faint smile touching his lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

My stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“In the kitchen,” Luca said calmly. “You were terrified. What did she say to you?”

I froze. He knew. Of course he knew. You don’t build an empire by missing the details.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and opened the text message. I handed it to him.

Luca briefly took his eyes off the road to read the screen.

His jaw tightened. The faint smile vanished entirely.

He didn’t hand the phone back. He tossed it into the cup holder.

“Did she cut the brakes?” I whispered, afraid to wake Margaret.

“No,” Luca said, his voice hard as stone. “Vanessa isn’t smart enough to tamper with a brake line without leaving evidence. If the brakes were cut, a professional did it.”

“Then who?”

Luca gripped the steering wheel. “My brother handled the union contracts for the docks. He made a lot of enemies. But I investigated every single one of them after he died. They were all clean.”

He looked in the rearview mirror.

Then he looked again.

“Luca?” I asked, following his gaze.

In the side mirror, two bright headlights were cutting through the darkness, approaching us fast. Very fast.

We were in the middle of nowhere. No streetlights. Just empty, snow-dusted highway.

“Hold on,” Luca ordered.

He pressed his foot down. The heavy SUV surged forward, the powerful engine roaring.

But the headlights behind us accelerated too.

They weren’t just passing us. They were tracking us.

“Is it Vanessa?” I asked, panic rising in my chest.

“Vanessa doesn’t have a car,” Luca said, his eyes darting between the road and the mirror. “And she doesn’t have the money to hire a tail this fast.”

Suddenly, the headlights swerved aggressively into our lane, accelerating until the front bumper of the pursuing car was inches from our rear bumper.

Margaret woke up with a gasp as our SUV violently jolted forward. The car behind us had deliberately rammed us.

“Mr. Moretti!” Margaret cried out.

“Keep your head down, Mrs. Ellis!” Luca shouted, gripping the wheel as the SUV fishtailed slightly on the icy asphalt.

The car behind us pulled into the left lane, matching our speed. It was a dark, unmarked sedan. The windows were heavily tinted.

The passenger side window of the sedan began to roll down.

A metallic barrel slid out into the freezing night air.

“Get down!” Luca roared, shoving his hand against my shoulder and pushing me toward the floorboards.

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