Chapter 5 - The Glass House and the Rose
The next morning, the rain had stopped, giving way to a crisp, cold Seattle autumn day.
I woke up to the smell of fresh espresso, buttery croissants, and sizzling bacon.
When I carried Emma down the grand spiral staircase—my wrapped ankle supported by a sleek carbon-fiber cane Luca had provided—I found the grand dining room bustling with activity.
Luca sat at the head of a long mahogany table, reading a stack of intelligence reports while sipping dark coffee.
Emma, dressed in a brand-new yellow cotton dress that had been delivered to her room an hour earlier, gasped in delight at the massive plate of blueberry pancakes waiting at a child-sized setting beside Luca's chair.
"Good morning, little one," Luca said, setting his papers aside instantly as we walked in.
Emma didn't show an ounce of fear. She trotted right over to him, her three-year-old innocence completely blind to the fact that he was the most feared man in the Pacific Northwest.
"Are you the prince with the big house?" Emma asked, pointing a syrup-covered finger at him.
Luca blinked, completely thrown off guard. A dark flush of color crept up his neck, making his security guard, Dante, cough awkwardly near the doorway to hide a laugh.
"I am... something like that," Luca said gently, pulling out her chair for her.
"Mama said we get to stay here until my chest stops hurting," Emma continued, digging into her pancakes with pure joy. "Do you have toys?"
"I have an entire playroom being set up on the west wing as we speak," Luca replied, offering her a napkin. "With a giant stuffed bear taller than your mother."
Emma gasped, her eyes turning into wide dinner plates. "Mama! A big bear!"
I smiled, sitting down across from Luca, my heart feeling lighter than it had in eighteen agonizing months. Watching this ruthless mafia Don cater to my daughter's every childish whim was a bizarre, mesmerizing sight.
"You don't have to spoil her, Luca," I murmured, taking a glass of fresh orange juice.
"I have no children of my own, Ava," Luca said, his dark eyes meeting mine over his coffee cup. "Spoiling her is a minor perk of this arrangement."
Before I could answer, Dante stepped into the room, holding an encrypted satellite phone. His face was grim.
"Boss," Dante said quietly. "We intercepted a wire transfer from Chicago to a private bank in downtown Seattle twenty minutes ago. Jake Martinez just checked into the Fairmont Olympic Hotel under an alias."
The warmth in the room vanished instantly.
Luca set his coffee cup down with a quiet, decisive click. The gentle host vanished, replaced in a fraction of a second by the lethal king of the underworld.
"Is he alone?" Luca asked coldly.
"No," Dante replied. "Alberto Moretti sent his youngest son, Frankie Moretti, along with four heavy hitters. They brought a legal team."
Luca's eyes narrowed. "A legal team?"
"They filed emergency biological paternity rights with a corrupt judge in King County two hours ago," Dante explained. "They're planning to execute a court-ordered custody snatch at your old apartment by noon today."
I choked on my breath, my fork clattering onto the plate. "They're going to use the police to take her?"
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Luca stood up, buttoning his sleek black suit jacket, his jaw set like reinforced steel.
"No," Luca said, looking down at me with absolute authority. "They're going to try to use a piece of paper in my city. And I am going to tear it up in front of their faces."
