Chapter 7 – THE DEBT OF BLOOD

The hallway spun.

I pressed my back against the wall to keep from collapsing. “No. No, that’s impossible. My father was an accountant. He died in a car crash.”

Michael barked a wet, bloody laugh from the floor. “An accountant! The feds gave your mother a new name, a new life in the suburbs, and left my family to bleed out in the streets! And now his daughter is sleeping under our roof!”

Luca stared at me. The man who had just crawled through fire to save my life now looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I was the enemy.

“Did you know?” Luca asked, his voice dead.

“Luca, I swear to God,” I sobbed, clutching the wooden cross. “I didn’t know. My mother never told me. I just needed a job to pay for Leo’s doctors. I swear on my brother’s life.”

Before Luca could answer, heavy footsteps echoed on the marble stairs.

A dozen men in tailored suits flooded the landing. They weren’t Luca’s guards. They were older, stone-faced men.

The Syndicate Council.

At the front was Don Falcone, a man with silver hair and eyes like chips of ice. He looked at Michael bleeding on the floor, then at Luca holding the gun.

“Put the weapon down, Luca,” Falcone commanded.

Luca didn’t lower the gun, but he kept it pointed at the floor.

“Your brother called us,” Falcone said, stepping over a puddle of Michael’s blood. “He told us you had gone mad. That you were letting a rat’s daughter dismantle this family from the inside. We didn’t believe him. But here she is.”

Falcone looked at me with absolute disgust.

“Arthur Brooks’s daughter. Breathing our air.” Falcone turned back to Luca. “The girl and her family must be eliminated. Tonight. It is a matter of Syndicate honor. You will do it, Luca, or we will strip you of your seat.”

My blood ran cold.

Eliminated. My mother. My little brother. Me.

“She didn’t know,” Luca said. His voice was quiet, but it carried a dangerous edge.

“Ignorance does not erase blood,” Falcone snapped. “She is a Brooks. Her father destroyed yours. She has to die.”

Noah, still clinging to Luca’s leg, looked up. He couldn’t hear the words, but he felt the aggression in the room.

He stepped in front of me, putting his tiny, eight-year-old body between me and the mafia council.

No, Noah signed furiously at his father. She is mine. She is good.

Falcone scoffed. “Move the deaf boy, Luca, before he gets hurt.”

Something in Luca snapped.

The hesitation vanished from his eyes. The betrayal faded, replaced by something ancient and terrifying.

He stepped forward, placing one massive hand on Noah’s shoulder, and used his other hand to pull me flush against his side.

“You don’t give orders in my house, Falcone,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a lethal, rumbling baritone.

“You would risk your empire for a rat’s daughter?” Falcone asked in disbelief.

“Her father wore a wire,” Luca said, his eyes burning into the old man. “He did what he thought was right to protect his family. But Ella?” Luca looked down at me. “Ella stepped in front of my brother’s gun to protect my son. She crawled through fire to save my life. She has shown more loyalty in eleven months than any man standing in this hallway.”

Luca raised his gun, pointing it directly at the space between Falcone’s eyes.

“Ella Brooks is under my protection,” Luca declared, his voice echoing off the marble walls. “Her mother is under my protection. Her brother is under my protection.”

“You are breaking the law of the families, Luca!” Falcone roared.

“I am the law in Chicago,” Luca said smoothly. He glanced down at Michael. “My brother poisoned my son. He conspired with my fiancée. He tried to burn me alive. Take him. Banish him. If I ever see his face in this city again, I will send him back to you in pieces.”

Falcone stared at Luca for a long, tense moment. He looked at the gun leveled at his head, then at the unwavering resolve in Luca’s eyes.

The old man finally nodded.

“You have chosen your path, Moretti,” Falcone spat. “Let’s hope this maid is worth it.”

He gestured to his men. They hauled a screaming, bleeding Michael off the floor and dragged him down the stairs.

The house fell completely silent.

Luca lowered the gun. He turned to me, the adrenaline leaving his body, leaving only exhaustion and something deeply vulnerable.

He reached out and gently touched my cheek, his thumb wiping away a streak of soot.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

I nodded, leaning into his touch. “Where is Leo? You said he was in a van?”

Luca smiled softly. “Daniel pulled the van over ten minutes ago. Your mother and brother are safe. They’re waiting in the kitchen.”

I burst into tears and threw my arms around his neck.

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