Chapter 4 - The Lake Forest Fortress
The transfer from West End General to the Moretti estate in Lake Forest happened in a convoy of four identical armored SUVs, their tinted windows black as obsidian. The city slipped away beneath gray autumn clouds, replaced by winding, tree-lined roads shrouded in early morning fog.
The estate itself sat behind iron gates twelve feet high, topped with discreet electronic countermeasures and guarded by men who looked more like private military contractors than traditional mob enforcers. The main house was a sprawling masterpiece of limestone, dark slate, and towering arched windows overlooking the cold, choppy waters of Lake Michigan. It was magnificent, ancient, and undeniably a fortress.
Two guards opened the heavy car door, but before either could reach out to assist me, Dante was already there. Without asking for permission, he slid one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my shoulders, lifting me effortlessly against his chest.
""I can walk,"" I muttered, my face burning as several armed guards hastily looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the autumn foliage.
""The doctor said three weeks of limited physical exertion,"" Dante replied, carrying me up the wide stone steps without breathing heavily. ""You can walk when your ribs stop grinding against your lungs.""
His chest was broad, solid, and smelled of cedar, rich tobacco, and expensive soap. Despite the sheer terror of the past forty-eight hours, an absurd, intoxicating sense of security settled over me. In Dante's arms, the world outside these iron gates felt utterly irrelevant.
He carried me through a soaring grand foyer lined with dark walnut paneling and crystal chandeliers, bypassing the grand staircase entirely to step into a polished private elevator. When the doors opened on the third floor, he brought me into an expansive bedroom suite featuring a king-sized canopy bed, a roaring limestone fireplace, and a panoramic view of the misty lake.
He laid me down onto the plush duvet with immense care, propping three silk pillows behind my back.
""This is your room,"" he announced, gesturing toward the adjoining doors. ""Private bath to the left, walk-in closet fully stocked with your measurements to the right. My quarters are down the hall, through the double doors at the end of the corridor.""
""You bought clothes in my size?"" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
""Julian pulled your measurements from your HR file,"" he said without a hint of remorse. ""Anything you dislike will be replaced within two hours. A private physician will arrive at four to change the dressing on your temple.""
I looked around the luxurious cage. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm amber shadows across the dark hardwood floor. It was the most beautiful room I had ever set foot in, but the weight of my reality refused to vanish.
""How long, Dante?"" I asked quietly, looking up at him. He had stripped off his overcoat, standing before the fire in his tailored waistcoat and pressed shirt, looking like a lord surveying his sanctuary. ""How long do I hide here while your men shoot people in the dark?""
Dante turned, his hazel eyes catching the amber firelight. He walked over to the edge of the bed and leaned down, bracing his palms on either side of my hips, trapping me in his shadow.
""Until the threat ceases to exist,"" he said, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic purr. ""The Castiglione boss, a man named Enzo, thinks he can force me to surrender the Chicago port by making me fear for your life. He believes you are my collateral.""
""And what if I am?"" I whispered, my heart thumping wildly against my bruised chest as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my lips. ""What if they find out I'm here?""
""They know you are here,"" Dante said with a cold, terrifying smile that sent shivers straight to my toes. ""I made sure Enzo heard the news two hours ago. I want him to know where you are. I want him to believe I am hiding behind these walls, scared and defensive.""
May you like
My breath hitched. ""You're using yourself as bait?""
""No, Harper,"" he whispered, his lips brushing the tender skin right beneath my ear, making every nerve ending in my body ignite with electricity. ""I am the trap. And when Enzo walks into this house to take what he thinks belongs to him, he will find out that the devil doesn't negotiate.""
