Chapter 8 - The Ruin of the Bellinis
Total pandemonium erupted inside St. Michael’s Cathedral.
Guests stood up in their pews, craning their necks to see. Whispers turned into shouts of disbelief.
Vanessa took two frantic steps backward, her white lace train tangling around her heels. Her face was flushed dark red, panic and horror distorting her beautiful features.
"Luca!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "What... what are you doing?! This is an outrage! You're ruining our wedding!"
"Our wedding ended at four o'clock on Thursday," Luca said, his voice dropping into an ice-cold register that cut through the noise of the crowd. "When you slammed a heavy brass luggage cart into a helpless maid's leg to hide the fact that you and your father were stealing my mother's legacy."
Silvio Bellini slammed his hands on the wooden pew rail, jumping to his feet. "Luca! How dare you accuse my daughter of such absurdities in front of the entire city! This is an insult to the Bellini name!"
Luca slowly turned his head to look down at his uncle.
"Sit down, Silvio," Luca commanded softly.
"I will not sit down!" Silvio roared, reaching into his tuxedo jacket toward his shoulder holster. "You've lost your mind! I am calling my men—"
"Your men are currently in zip-ties in the parking lot, Silvio," Daniel Vance’s powerful voice echoed from the rear of the church.
The heavy oak doors at the back of the cathedral burst open.
Twenty heavily armed Moretti security guards, accompanied by federal agents in navy windbreakers marked FBI, poured down the main aisle, surrounding the altar and blocking every exit.
Silvio froze, his hand trapped inside his jacket, as four federal agents slammed him against the wooden pew rail, pulling his weapon away and ratcheting heavy steel handcuffs over his wrists.
"Silvio Bellini," the lead FBI agent declared loudly. "You are under arrest for federal conspiracy, wire fraud, grand larceny, and attempted racketeering."
"No!" Vanessa screamed, her veil tearing as she fell to her knees on the marble altar steps, clutching at Luca’s trousers. "Luca! Please! It was my father! He forced me to do it! He had gambling debts in London! He threatened me! Please, Luca, I love you!"
Luca stepped back out of her reach, staring down at her with pure, unadulterated disgust.
"You didn't just steal from me, Vanessa," Luca said, every word dripping with lethal precision. "You tortured an innocent worker in my house. You threatened her life. You tried to make her feel small, helpless, and disposable."
He looked up toward the high balcony pew where I sat watching.
Every head in the church followed his gaze, looking up at the young woman in the navy blue silk dress.
"Hannah Parker is worth ten of you," Luca declared loudly, his voice echoing off the stained-glass windows. "Take them away."
Federal agents stepped forward, grabbing Vanessa’s arms and hauling her to her feet. She kicked and shrieked hysterically, her pearl-embellished gown dragging through the dirt on the marble floor as she and her father were dragged down the aisle in chains, past two hundred stunned guests.
Within ten minutes, the church had cleared out under the direction of Daniel’s security team.
The heavy wooden doors were locked from the inside.
Silence returned to the great cathedral.
Luca stood alone at the front of the altar, holding his mother's real emerald necklace in his hand.
He turned slowly, looking up at the balcony.
"Hannah," he called out softly.
Daniel helped me stand, guiding me down the private side elevator to the main floor. I walked slowly down the long aisle using a wooden cane, my navy blue dress swaying around my ankles.
Luca walked down the altar steps to meet me halfway.
He stopped right in front of me, looking into my eyes with an intensity that made the breath catch in my throat.
Without a word, he reached out, stepped behind me, and gently draped his mother's priceless emerald necklace around my neck.
The cool platinum rested against my skin. The brilliant green stones caught the soft light of the altar candles.
I looked down in utter shock, my hands trembling as I touched the stones. "Luca... no... I can't wear this. This is your mother's—"
"My mother was a woman of supreme grace, dignity, and courage," Luca whispered softly, leaning down so his gray eyes were level with mine. "She would have wanted the braver woman in this room to wear it."
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Tears spilled over my lashes, hot and sweet.
Luca reached out, catching my chin in his hand, his thumb gently wiping away my tears, before pulling me softly into his broad chest, holding me close as the quiet peace of the cathedral wrapped around us.
