Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den
Two weeks passed within the fortified walls of the Morretti estate. My ribs began to heal, the deep purple bruises fading into a dull, sickly yellow. More importantly, the invisible bruises on my soul began to shift.
Luca was a revelation. He was ruthless to his enemies, a phantom of violence who ruled the underworld with an iron fist. But to me, he was an impenetrable shield.
We spent our evenings in his vast library. He would pour over syndicate ledgers while I read by the roaring fire. He never forced conversation, never pushed for physical intimacy, and never once raised his voice.
One evening, his three top underbosses arrived for a meeting. I attempted to leave the library to give them privacy, but Luca caught my wrist.
“Stay,” he commanded softly. “You are my wife. You sit at my right hand.”
The underbosses—hardened killers with scars and tailored suits—exchanged wary glances as I took the leather chair beside Luca. One of them, a man named Dante, scoffed.
“Boss, with all due respect, we are discussing the Vance territory. Do we really want a Vance listening in?” Dante asked, eyeing me with deep suspicion.
Before Luca could explode, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the mahogany desk. I looked Dante dead in the eye.
“If you strike the Vance warehouse on Pier 4 tonight, you will be walking into an ambush,” I stated coolly. “Julian uses it as a decoy. The real weapons cache is hidden beneath the abandoned fish market on Pier 7. There are only two guards stationed there because he thinks no one knows it exists.”
Dante blinked, entirely taken aback. The other men fell silent.
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I leaned back in my chair. “I am not a Vance anymore, gentlemen. I am a Morretti. And I know every single one of my brother’s weaknesses.”
Luca looked at me, a slow, incredibly proud smile spreading across his face. He turned back to his stunned capos. “You heard my wife. Reroute the strike team to Pier 7.”
