Chapter 7 - THE TRUTH ABOUT THE MAFIA BOSS DEBT
We ran through the rain.
The storm had broken over Chicago, turning the estate’s manicured lawns into slick mud. Luca led us through the darkness, away from the mansion and toward the old, overgrown greenhouse at the edge of the property.
I held Benjamin's hand tightly with my good arm. My left shoulder throbbed where Marco’s knife had sliced me, but the adrenaline kept the pain at bay.
Behind us, the mansion was dark. Vanessa had stayed behind, weeping on the stairs, completely broken by the revelation of her own son.
Luca shoved the heavy iron key into the rusted lock of the greenhouse doors.
They groaned open, revealing a wall of dead vines and shattered glass.
“In here,” Luca ordered.
Caroline hurried inside with Ben. I followed. Luca stepped in last, dragging the heavy doors shut and throwing a steel deadbolt into place.
The air inside smelled of wet earth and decay.
Luca moved quickly to a large, empty stone planter in the center of the room. He grabbed the edge and, with a massive heave, pushed it aside.
Beneath it was a steel trapdoor.
“A tunnel?” Caroline asked, shivering in the cold.
“My father built it during the family wars in the nineties,” Luca said, pulling the hatch open. “It leads beyond the estate walls to a garage on 5th Street. There’s an armored SUV waiting.”
He looked at me. “Rachel, can you climb down?”
“I can,” I said firmly.
He helped Benjamin down the rusted ladder first, then Caroline. As I started to descend, Luca caught my good arm.
“Rachel.”
I looked up at him in the dim moonlight filtering through the broken glass roof.
“When we get to the safehouse,” he said quietly, “I’m giving you enough cash to pay your mother’s rent for the next ten years. Then I’m putting you on a plane to somewhere safe.”
My eyes filled with tears. I thought of my mother, sitting in her small apartment, waiting for a paycheck that might never come.
“Thank you, Mr. Moretti.”
“You saved my son,” he said simply. “I owe you my life.”
He climbed down after me, sealing the heavy steel door above us.
The tunnel was dark, lit only by the small flashlight on Luca’s phone. We walked for what felt like miles in absolute silence. The only sound was the dripping of water and our own breathing.
When we finally reached the garage on 5th Street, it was empty except for a massive black SUV.
Luca unlocked it. “Get in. Keep your heads down.”
We piled into the back. Luca started the engine, the roar echoing in the concrete box. As the garage doors rolled open, he gunned it into the rainy Chicago night.
Benjamin sat between me and Caroline. The little boy was exhausted, leaning his head against his mother’s good arm.
“Daddy?” Ben whispered into the dark car.
“Yeah, buddy?” Luca answered from the driver’s seat, his eyes constantly scanning the mirrors.
“Is Vanessa really my first mommy?”
The car fell completely silent.
Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping down her bruised cheek.
Luca tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Yes, Ben. She is.”
Benjamin thought about this for a long time.
Then he looked up at Caroline.
“Does that mean you don't want me anymore?”
Caroline gasped, pulling him against her chest. “No! Oh, sweet boy, no. You are my son. You have always been my son. From the first time I held you, I knew you belonged to me.”
Ben buried his face in her shirt.
“I didn't like Vanessa,” he mumbled. “She popped my balloon.”
A broken, watery laugh escaped Caroline’s lips. “I know, baby. I know.”
I leaned back against the leather seat, the pain in my shoulder throbbing fiercely now.
“Mr. Moretti,” I asked quietly. “If Don Bellini wanted the baby dead nine years ago… why does he want him now? Why force the marriage?”
Luca’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
“Because Bellini is dying, Rachel. Bone cancer. He has six months, maybe less. He has no male heirs left. Without an heir, his territory will be torn apart by his rivals the moment he dies.”
The terrifying truth clicked into place.
“He doesn't want you to marry Vanessa,” I realized. “He wants Benjamin. He wants to take his grandson back and raise him as the next Don of the Bellini family.”
“Exactly,” Luca said grimly. “He orchestrated the marriage to get Vanessa into my house. He forged Caroline’s signature on the boarding school papers to get Ben out of the country, away from my protection. Once Ben was in Switzerland, Bellini’s men would have taken him.”
“And you?” Caroline asked, her voice shaking.
“I would have been killed on the wedding day,” Luca said flatly.
Suddenly, the SUV’s dashboard lit up.
An incoming call.
The caller ID flashed in bright red letters: BELLINI.
Luca stared at the screen for a long second.
Then, he hit answer, putting it on speaker.
“Luca,” a raspy, ancient voice crackled through the speakers. Don Bellini. “You’re making this very difficult.”
“You’re out of time, old man,” Luca said coldly. “I have my son. And I have the truth.”
A low, wheezing chuckle echoed in the car.
“You have a boy who carries my blood,” Bellini rasped. “And you have a truth that won't matter in an hour.”
“If you touch my family again, I will burn your empire to the ground.”
“You can't burn what you don't own, Luca,” Bellini said. “Look in the glove compartment.”
Luca frowned. He reached over and popped the glove box open.
Inside was a single, folded piece of thick parchment paper.
Luca grabbed it and opened it while steering with one hand.
I saw his face go completely pale in the dash lights.
“What is it?” Caroline asked in panic.
“It’s a contract,” Luca whispered.
“What kind of contract?”
Luca crumpled the paper in his fist.
“The kind my father signed twenty years ago. Pledging the entire Moretti estate—everything we own, every business, every dollar—to the Bellini family in the event of a broken alliance.”
May you like
Bellini’s voice crackled again.
“You broke the engagement tonight, Luca. The alliance is dead. By morning, you will have nothing. No money. No men. No power. You will be a beggar on the streets. And then, I will take my grandson.”
