Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Truce
Three days later, the trap began to spring.
The mansion had turned into an active command center. Bodyguards moved across the grounds like wraiths, while technicians monitored satellite feeds in the basement. Gabi spent her time reading in the sunroom, sheltered from the terrifying reality by Luca’s constant distractions and endless platters of pastries.
Around noon, an unexpected envelope arrived at the security gate, delivered by a civilian courier.
Marco brought it into the dining room where Luca and I were reviewing shipping schedules. The envelope was heavy, stamped with the wax seal of the Coretti syndicate.
Luca slit the wax with a silver pocketknife and unfolded the letter. His jaw tightened so hard I heard the enamel grind.
“What does it say?” I asked, leaning forward over the table.
“Vincenzo wants a sit-down,” Luca replied coldly. “Tonight at eight. The neutral ballroom at the St. Regis downtown.”
“A sit-down?” I shook my head frantically. “It’s an ambush, Luca. Coretti doesn't do peace talks. You know his history—he wiped out the Moretti brothers during a communion dinner!”
“He demands your presence,” Luca added, his eyes fixing on mine with a lethal stillness. “The terms state that unless you attend as my official representative to sign over the disputed dock manifests, he will detonate car bombs outside three Ferrante distribution hubs.”
Panic clawed at my throat. “Me? Why would he demand me?”
“Because he wants to test if you are truly mine,” Luca said, his fingers curling into fists on the tabletop. “In our world, an enemy boss doesn't ask for property; he demands blood. If I refuse to bring you, he knows you are my Achilles' heel. If I bring you, he assumes I consider you expendable.”
“Then don’t take me!”
“I have to take you, Nora,” Luca said, his voice dropping into that chilling, resolute register that brooked no defiance. “Because if we don’t show up together, fifty innocent warehouse workers die tonight. But you won’t be alone for a single heartbeat. You will wear my colors, you will stand at my side, and you will show Vincenzo Coretti why Ferrante territory is unreachable.”
May you like
He stood up, walking toward the double doors, before pausing and looking over his shoulder.
“Wear the emerald dress hanging in your wardrobe,” he ordered softly. “I want him to see you look like a queen before I tear his empire apart.”
