Chapter 6
Daniel Cross was lying in the back seat of Luca’s oldest car.
A black 1969 Camaro nobody had driven in months.
I did not see the body.
Luca made sure of that.
He went downstairs with Marco and the police while I stayed in the suite with Sophie.
She slept through everything.
I did not.
At four in the morning, I sat on the edge of the sofa listening to footsteps move through the hallway.
Police radios.
Doors opening.
Low voices.
A camera flash beneath the crack of the door.
The entire mansion had turned into a crime scene.
When Luca returned, his shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
His face looked older.
Not tired.
Stripped down.
Like there was no energy left for the expression he usually wore for the world.
I stood.
“Was it him?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Gunshot.”
I swallowed.
“Here?”
“No blood in the garage.”
“So he was killed somewhere else.”
“That’s what they think.”
“Why put him here?”
Luca stared at me.
“To send a message.”
“To you?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
He looked toward Sophie.
“His phone was in his pocket.”
I waited.
“There was one saved draft text.”
“To who?”
“No recipient.”
“What did it say?”
Luca didn’t answer.
“Luca.”
It was the first time I had said his name without sir.
We both noticed.
Neither of us corrected it.
He took out his phone.
Typed something.
Then turned the screen toward me.
The draft text read:
THE MAID SAW TOO MUCH. FIX IT BEFORE BELLINI DOES.
I stared.
My stomach turned.
“Bellini meaning Vanessa?”
“Or Angelo.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know what I believe.”
“You believed Angelo enough to let him leave?”
His eyes sharpened.
“I didn’t let him leave.”
“What?”
“He’s in the east guest room.”
I blinked.
“You kept him here?”
“Police asked everyone to remain.”
“Does he know Cross is dead?”
“Yes.”
“How did he react?”
Luca’s mouth tightened.
“He said, ‘Then we’re late.’”
A chill ran through me.
“Late for what?”
“That’s exactly what I asked.”
“And?”
“He refused to answer without his attorney.”
I looked toward the door.
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
Luca sat in the chair.
For a moment, he simply rubbed his face with both hands.
I had never seen him do anything so ordinary.
So tired.
It made him seem less like Luca Moretti—the man staff whispered about—and more like a father who had nearly lost control of his own house without noticing.
“I should have seen it,” he said.
“What?”
“All of it.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I live here.”
“So do forty employees.”
“She isolated my daughter under my roof.”
“You trusted someone.”
“I trusted the wrong person.”
“That happens.”
His eyes lifted.
“Not to me.”
I almost smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The ego.”
He stared at me.
Then, incredibly, laughed once.
Quietly.
“You just called your employer arrogant.”
“I said ego.”
“That is not better.”
“It’s four in the morning. I’m injured. You can’t fire me.”
“Why not?”
“Sophie would revolt.”
That made him smile.
Then the smile disappeared.
“About that.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“I’m putting you on paid leave.”
The warmth vanished from the room.
“No.”
“Mia—”
“No.”
“You’re a target.”
“And sending me home makes me safer?”
“Not home.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“I have a house outside the city. Secure. Private.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“You want to hide me.”
“I want to keep you alive.”
“Those are not the same thing.”
“They can be.”
“What about Sophie?”
“She’ll stay with me.”
“She’s attached to me because someone spent six weeks making her think you didn’t want her.”
“I know.”
“And you want me to disappear the morning after she learned Vanessa lied?”
His jaw tightened.
“That’s not fair.”
“No. It isn’t.”
We stared at each other.
He stood.
“You think I want to send you away?”
“I don’t know what you want.”
His expression changed.
That sentence landed somewhere neither of us should have gone.
He stepped closer.
I should have stepped back.
Again, I didn’t.
“What I want,” he said quietly, “is for you not to get hurt because of me.”
“Too late.”
His eyes moved to my bruised cheek.
My bandaged leg.
His face hardened with guilt.
“That’s exactly my point.”
“No. Vanessa hurt me because she wanted control. That is on her.”
“She was in my house.”
“Still on her.”
“She used my name to scare you.”
“That worked because I let it.”
His brows pulled together.
“You’re taking responsibility for being threatened?”
“No. I’m taking responsibility for staying quiet.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you turning this into another reason to blame yourself.”
Silence.
Luca stared at me.
I suddenly realized what I had said.
How personal it sounded.
I looked away.
“That came out wrong.”
“No.”
His voice was lower now.
“It didn’t.”
Before I could answer, Sophie stirred.
We both stepped apart.
She sat up slowly.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“Mia?”
“I’m here too.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
Then she looked between us.
“Why are you fighting?”
“We’re not,” Luca and I said together.
Sophie frowned.
“You look like you are.”
Luca sighed.
“Mia doesn’t want to rest.”
Sophie immediately looked at me with betrayal.
“Mia.”
I stared at Luca.
He looked almost smug.
Unbelievable.
“I can rest here,” I said.
Sophie nodded firmly.
“Good.”
Then she lay down again.
“Problem solved.”
Luca folded his arms.
I whispered, “You weaponized your child.”
“She’s efficient.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
The moment lasted five seconds.
Then Marco knocked once and entered.
“We have the preliminary phone dump.”
Luca’s expression changed.
“What did Cross have?”
“Messages with Vanessa.”
“Anything useful?”
“A lot.”
Marco glanced at me.
“And something strange.”
“What?”
“Cross had been trying to back out.”
I frowned.
“Back out of what?”
“The operation.”
“What operation?” Luca asked.
Marco opened his tablet.
“There are texts. Vanessa says, ‘We’re past warnings. Friday ends it.’ Cross responds, ‘I agreed to scare her, not kill anyone.’”
My skin went cold.
Luca’s face emptied.
“Friday.”
Marco nodded.
“Tonight.”
I looked at the sleeping child.
“What was supposed to happen?”
Marco scrolled.
“Cross asked the same question.”
“And Vanessa?”
“She replied, ‘Not her. Him.’”
Luca went still.
“Him who?”
“We don’t know.”
Marco kept scrolling.
“Cross then says, ‘If Moretti gets hurt, I’m gone.’”
The room became silent.
I looked at Luca.
He looked at me.
Not me.
Him.
Vanessa had not been planning to kill the maid.
She had been planning something for Luca.
Marco continued.
“There’s another text. From Cross to Vanessa. Yesterday morning.”
“What does it say?”
Marco read it aloud.
“‘Bellini changed the plan. He wants the child out first.’”
Every muscle in Luca’s body locked.
“Which Bellini?”
“That’s the problem.”
Marco turned the screen.
“Cross saved Vanessa as Vanessa.”
He swiped.
“The contact he called Bellini had a different number.”
“Angelo,” I whispered.
Marco nodded slowly.
“Maybe.”
Then the bedroom door opened.
Angelo Bellini stood there.
No guard beside him.
No attorney.
His shirt collar was open.
Blood covered one sleeve.
Luca moved in front of Sophie instantly.
Marco reached for his weapon.
Angelo lifted both hands.
“Before you shoot me,” he said, breathing hard, “you should know your security chief has a traitor downstairs.”
Marco’s face changed.
“What happened to your arm?” Luca asked.
Angelo looked at the blood.
“Someone tried to kill me.”
“Who?”
Angelo looked directly at Marco.
“One of his men.”
Then every radio in the room crackled at once.
A voice came through.
Calm.
Male.
“Mr. Moretti, if you want your daughter to stay alive, bring Mia Carter to the front gate.”
The message over the radio repeated after thirty seconds, this time with static underneath it.
“Front gate. Mia Carter. Alone.”
Marco switched channels rapidly. “They’re inside our frequency.”
Luca looked at him. “Meaning?”
“Meaning either they cloned a radio or someone gave them access.”
Angelo gave a humorless laugh. “You still think this is one angry woman?”
Luca stepped toward him. “I think every person in this room has lied to me except my daughter and Mia.”
I looked at him. “I’ve lied to you.”
His head turned.
“About being fine,” I added.
For half a second, nobody spoke. Then Sophie whispered, “A lot.”
Even Angelo smiled. The laugh that escaped me was shaky, but it broke the terror long enough for me to think.
“Whoever is outside expects us to react fast,” I said. “So don’t.”
Marco frowned. “What do you suggest?”
“Make them wait.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because impatient people make mistakes too.”
Angelo studied me. “You really are wasted folding towels.”
Luca’s stare could have cut glass. “Do not recruit my staff.”
“I thought she was on paid leave.”
“Not helping.”
Then my phone buzzed, and every trace of humor disappeared. Ethan’s photograph filled the screen.
May you like
Luca looked toward the dark windows. “Nobody opens a door without Marco confirming it.”
I tightened my grip on Sophie’s hand. Whatever came next, the house no longer felt like protection. It felt like a board where someone else had been moving the pieces before we even knew there was a game.
