Chapter 6 - A Mask Torn Away
The forty-eight hours leading up to Saturday were a whirlwind of tension, covert preparations, and an intimacy that grew between Luca and me like a roaring fire in the dead of winter.
Dr. Harris returned twice daily, administering targeted physical therapy and advanced therapeutic treatments to my back. By Friday evening, the sharp pain had subsided to a manageable, dull throb. I could stand tall, move with grace, and breathe without the agonizing spasms that had plagued me.
Luca never left the estate.
He held syndicate council meetings in the grand library, issuing orders with cold, military precision. But whenever he had a spare moment, he came to the east wing.
He brought me hot tea himself. He sat on the sofa beside my mother, listening with genuine respect as she told embarrassing stories about my childhood. For a man whose name made hardened hitmen tremble, he was remarkably gentle with us.
“You care for him, don't you?” my mother whispered to me on Friday afternoon, watching through the window as Luca barked orders to a perimeter patrol on the lawn.
My cheeks burned. “Mom, he’s Luca Moretti. He’s the head of the syndicate. I’m just—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re just a maid, Claire Bennett,” my mother scolded gently, tapping my hand. “A man like that doesn't look at a woman the way he looks at you unless he sees his entire world in her eyes. I’ve lived long enough to know the difference between a man who uses people and a man who will burn down the world to protect them.”
On Saturday morning, a team of high-end stylists, tailors, and jewelers arrived at the estate under heavy armed guard.
They brought garment bags filled with couture gowns, velvet cases of heirloom jewelry, and trunks of cosmetics.
When I emerged from the dressing room at 6:00 PM, the breath caught in my own throat as I looked into the full-length mirror.
I was wearing a breathtaking, custom-fitted emerald-green silk velvet gown that swept to the floor in elegant, flowing lines. The deep green accentuated my fair skin and brought out the golden flecks in my hazel eyes. The neckline was sweetheart, modest yet undeniably sensual, revealing the delicate line of my collarbone.
Around my neck hung the Moretti family heirloom: a cascade of platinum set with over forty carats of flawless, brilliant-cut diamonds.
My chestnut hair was styled in an intricate, sophisticated updo, with soft tendrils framing my face.
A quiet knock sounded at the door.
Luca stepped inside.
He was dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo with satin lapels, looking impossibly handsome, aristocratic, and lethal.
The moment his eyes landed on me, he stopped dead in his tracks.
The cold, ruthless Don vanished. In his eyes burned an intense, raw admiration that made my knees feel weak.
He walked slowly across the room, never taking his eyes off mine.
“Mio Dio,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You are the most breathtaking creature I have ever seen.”
“Luca,” I breathed, feeling a blush warm my cheeks. “I don't look like a mob boss’s date. I look like an imposter.”
Luca took my hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a slow, reverent kiss against my knuckles.
“You look like a queen, Claire,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto mine with fierce devotion. “Elena was a cheap imitation wrapped in crimson silk. You are real. You have courage, honor, and a heart purer than gold.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, exquisite silver-handled derringer pistol, sliding it into a concealed, velvet-lined holster sewn into the inner lining of my evening clutch.
“Just in case,” he whispered. “Though I swear on my life, no harm will come to you tonight.”
“I trust you, Luca,” I said, and for the first time in my life, I meant it with every fiber of my being.
Downstairs, an armored convoy of five black Cadillac Escalades was waiting under the grand portico.
Daniel opened the door for us, his sharp eyes scanning the tree line.
As Luca helped me into the plush leather interior of the lead vehicle, he pulled me close against his side, his arm draping possessively over my shoulders.
May you like
“Tonight,” Luca murmured into my ear as the heavy gates swung open, “we end this war.”
***
