Chapter 8 - THE RECKONING
Lorenzo Moretti’s hand trembled so violently that the barrel of his silver pistol rattled against his gold ring. Tears of panic welled in his dark eyes as he realized there were no more guards, no more escape routes, and no more lies left to tell.
“Matteo… wait!” Lorenzo pleaded, his voice high-pitched and frantic. “Listen to me! It wasn't my idea! It was my father! My father was the one who ordered the kidnapping thirteen years ago! I was just a kid! I didn't know!”
“You knew six months ago,” I spoke up, stepping out from behind Matteo, my 9mm pistol held firmly in both hands, pointed directly at Lorenzo’s chest.
Lorenzo blinked at me, his breath hitching. “Isabella… please… I spared your life! I could have had you killed when my father died! I left you in that orphanage! I let you live!”
“You didn't let me live out of mercy, Lorenzo,” I said, my voice cold, sharp, and steady, surprising even myself with its absolute lack of fear. “You kept me there like a weapon in a vault. You let me grow up in cold, lonely rooms, starving and working like a dog, waiting for the day you could use me to destroy my brother. You didn't spare me. You tortured me.”
Victoria backed away toward the corner of the room, clutching her bag of diamonds, her eyes darting frantically toward the open balcony doors behind them.
“Matteo, please!” Victoria cried out, her haughty demeanor completely gone, reduced to a weeping, pathetic mess. “I didn't want any of this! My father forced me into it! He made me go to that diner to verify it was her! He told me that if Matteo found out she was alive, the alliance would be ruined and our family would lose everything! I was just trying to protect our future!”
“Our future?” Matteo repeated, his voice dropping into a register so dark it sent a shockwave of cold through the room. He turned his gray eyes slowly toward his former fiancée. “You tore my sister’s clothes open in front of two hundred people to humiliate her. You treated her like trash on the floor of my own house. You knew she was my blood, and you tried to break her spirit so she would run away into the night.”
“Matteo, I love you!” Victoria shrieked, falling to her knees on the blood-stained carpet, hands raised in supplication. “We were going to be married! We were going to rule Chicago together!”
“You never loved me, Victoria,” Matteo said softly. “You loved the crown. And now, you’re going to pay the tax.”
“Wait!” Lorenzo screamed, raising his pistol higher.
BANG.
A single shot rang out, echoing deafeningly inside the enclosed panic room.
Lorenzo’s eyes went wide with shock. He looked down at his chest, where a dark crimson hole was spreading rapidly across his expensive white silk shirt. The pistol slipped from his numb fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor. He collapsed sideways onto the sofa, gasping for air, before slowly sliding down onto the carpet, motionless.
I lowered my pistol, smoke drifting gently from the barrel. My hands were completely steady.
Matteo looked down at me, a mixture of fierce pride and deep sadness in his eyes. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to.
Victoria let out an ear-piercing scream, covering her face as Lorenzo’s blood pooled near her polished shoes. She looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes, crawling backward until her spine hit the concrete wall.
“Please…” Victoria sobbed, trembling so violently she could barely speak. “Please, Isabella… spare me… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for what I did to you…”
I walked over to her slowly, my black boots coming to a stop inches from her knees. I looked down at the woman who, twenty-four hours ago, had stood in a glittering gown, laughing as my uniform was ripped away, calling me a nobody.
I leaned down, grabbing the lapel of her expensive red silk dress, and with one swift, powerful tug, I ripped the fabric straight down to her waist, mirroring the exact humiliation she had inflicted upon me in the ballroom.
Victoria gasped, clutching her torn clothes over her chest, weeping uncontrollably.
“You stripped me of my dignity because you thought I had no power,” I whispered close to her ear, my voice dripping with icy venom. “Now, you’re going to live the rest of your life knowing that the maid you humiliated took everything from you.”
I looked up at Marco, who was standing in the doorway with two heavily armed soldiers.
“Take her,” I commanded flatly. “Strip her of her family name, her assets, and her jewelry. Throw her into the street in the worst district in Chicago. If she ever steps foot in Little Italy again, kill her.”
Marco grinned broadly, nodding respectfully. “Understood, Miss Romano.”
The guards grabbed Victoria by her arms, dragging her screaming and crying out of the room, her pleas dying away as they moved down the darkened hallway.
Silence fell over the safe room.
Matteo walked over to Lorenzo’s body, reaching down to pull the heavy silver serpent signet ring from the dead man’s pinky finger. He held it in his palm for a moment, then turned to me, tossing the ring onto the floor, where it clattered harmlessly into the dark corner.
“It’s over, Isabella,” Matteo said softly, stepping closer and wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. “The Moretti name is dead. The Capones are ruined. Chicago belongs to us.”
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I rested my head against my brother’s chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart. The fog that had clouded my memory for thirteen long years was finally gone. The little girl who had been dragged away in the rain was no longer lost.
“Let's go home, Matteo,” I whispered.
