Chapter 11 - The Trap Springs
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The victory over the Roman syndicate secured the Moretti family's international empire for the next generation.
Yet, as dusk settled over Lake Michigan, an uneasy tension gripped the estate.
Cornered animals are always at their most lethal when they have nothing left to lose.
Antonio Bellini was facing total financial ruin, federal investigations into his Swiss accounts, and syndicate exile.
Luca had doubled the security patrols around the mansion and the hospital, but he remained on high alert.
At nine o'clock that evening, I was sitting in the communications annex beside Dante, monitoring encrypted radio frequencies.
Since my appointment as executive translator, I had been assisting Dante’s team in deciphering intercepted communications between local rival crews.
Suddenly, a burst of high-frequency static hissed through my headset.
Two voices were speaking in heavily accented Sicilian slang, using maritime shipping terminology as a crude code.
“The eastern crane at Berth 14 is greased for midnight,” one voice muttered.
“Make sure the fuel lines are tapped before the cargo arrives.”
“The boss wants the entire pier engulfed before the coast guard can respond.”
My heart skipped a beat as I grabbed Dante’s arm.
“Dante, look at the schedule for Berth 14 tonight!” I urged, my voice tight with alarm.
Dante quickly pulled up the shipping database on his monitors.
“Berth 14 is receiving the private delivery of antique Italian marble and kitchen equipment for the restaurant's reconstruction,” Dante said, his brow furrowing.
“And Michael is personally supervising the unloading at eleven-thirty.”
The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water.
“It's an ambush,” I breathed, pulling off my headset.
“They aren't just burning the pier.”
“They are trying to kill Michael and destroy the restaurant's supplies in one strike!”
I grabbed the radio transcript and sprinted down the hallway toward Luca’s private armory.
Luca was standing before a wall-mounted weapons rack, strapping a tactical shoulder holster over his dark turtleneck.
“Luca!” I gasped, bursting into the room.
He turned instantly, his instincts flaring as he saw the terror in my eyes.
“Emily, what happened?”
“Berth 14 at the docks,” I explained, handing him the handwritten notes.
“Antonio Bellini hired Sicilian mercenaries to sabotage the fuel lines and detonate the eastern crane while Michael is on the pier tonight.”
Luca scanned the transcript in two seconds, his face hardening into an expression of murderous resolve.
“Michael left for the harbor ten minutes ago,” Luca growled, chambering a round into his custom sidearm with a lethal click.
“Dante!” Luca barked into his tactical radio.
“Scramble the convoy to the harbor right now!”
Luca grabbed his heavy leather jacket and turned toward the door.
I instinctively reached out and caught his sleeve.
“Luca, please be careful,” I pleaded, tears shining in my eyes.
He stopped, looking down at my hand clutching his coat.
Slowly, he reached up and covered my trembling fingers with his warm, calloused palm.
“I spent my entire life fighting for power, Emily,” Luca whispered, his dark eyes burning into mine with fierce, unbridled emotion.
“Tonight, I am fighting for my family.”
“And for the future I want to build with you.”
He leaned down and pressed a fierce, lingering kiss against my forehead before pulling away.
May you like
“Stay in the safe room with Dante’s men until I return.”
“I will end this tonight.”
