Chapter 3 - The Doctor's Sanctuary
The private clinic in downtown Chicago didn't look like a medical facility. It was located on the top floor of a high-security penthouse building owned by the Moretti syndicate.
Dr. Marcus Vance, a sharp-eyed man in his fifties who had been treating the Moretti family for twenty years, finished tying the final suture across my palm.
"Nine stitches," Dr. Vance said, trimming the thread with surgical scissors. "You're lucky the glass didn't sever the flexor tendon. Another millimeter deeper and you would have lost motor function in your ring finger."
I sat on the examination table, staring down at the neat, black stitches. "Thank you, Doctor."
Dr. Vance pulled off his latex gloves and tossed them into the bin. He leaned against his desk, looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and subtle concern. "I've worked for Luca Moretti for a long time, Miss Emma. I've seen him send men across the country for minor infractions. But I have never seen him dispatch his personal armored motorcade to bring a housemaid in for a laceration."
I swallowed hard, looking down at my lap. "He was just protecting his son's caregiver."
"Is that what you think?" Dr. Vance gave a faint, knowing smile. "Luca’s wife died four years ago in a hit meant for him. Since that day, he has trusted exactly three people with his son: his mother, Mario, and himself. Two dozen nannies have walked through that estate. Most were fired within forty-eight hours because Luca found them careless or opportunistic."
He stepped closer, his tone turning serious. "You've been there six months. Matteo speaks more to you than he does to his own aunts. Luca notices that, Emma. In our world, loyalty to a child is worth more than gold."
Before I could process his words, the heavy reinforced door of the examination room opened.
Mario stepped inside, holding a long black coat over his arm. "Doctor. Is she ready to travel?"
"She's stitched and bandaged," Dr. Vance replied. "Keep the dressing dry for forty-eight hours."
Mario nodded, turning to me with a respectful bow of his head—a gesture I had never received from estate security before. "Miss Emma. The Boss wants you brought to the lakehouse in Geneva."
I blinked in confusion. "The lakehouse? What about my shift at the estate? Matteo’s evening routine—"
"Matteo is already at the lakehouse," Mario explained quietly. "Along with the Boss. The main estate in Lake Forest is currently undergoing a... security audit."
My stomach did a nervous flip. A security audit in Luca Moretti's world usually meant men with weapons tearing rooms apart, searching for wiretaps, hidden recording devices, or traitors.
"What about Mrs. Bellini?" I asked, referring to Isabella. "Is she... still in the parlor?"
Mario’s face remained a completely unreadable mask of stone. "Mrs. Bellini’s father was summoned to the estate two hours ago. The engagement between the Moretti and Bellini families has been formally terminated."
I gasped softly. The Bellini family controlled the Chicago docks. Their alliance with Luca was the cornerstone of the city's peace agreement. Breaking an engagement with an heiress over a housemaid’s injury was an act of war in the underworld.
"Did... did Mr. Moretti break the alliance because of me?" I whispered, horror washing over me.
May you like
Mario looked at me, his sharp eyes softening just a fraction. "Mr. Moretti broke the alliance because a snake tried to poison his home. You just happened to be the one who held the glass."
He held out the black wool coat for me. "Put this on, Miss Emma. It's cold outside, and the Boss doesn't like to be kept waiting."
