Chapter 6 - The Blood on the Hudson
By 2:00 AM, the Moretti estate was locked down tighter than a federal prison.
Three dozen heavily armed enforcers lined the perimeter fence. State police cruisers sat at the main gate with their lights flashing, their officers speaking hushed tones with Marco DeLuca while Vincent’s high-priced attorneys managed the situation in the driveway.
In the sunroom suite on the second floor, the air was warm and smelled of lavender.
Elina sat on the plush velvet sofa, holding Sophia tight in her arms, rocking her back and forth. Sophia had been bathed, dressed in dry cotton pajamas, and was now sleeping soundly, her small thumb resting in her mouth, completely exhausted from the night's trauma.
The heavy suite doors opened quietly.
Vincent stepped inside.
He had changed into a clean dark shirt and suit pants. His hair was dry, but his knuckles were wrapped in white medical tape.
Elina looked up, her eyes red from crying. She gently laid Sophia down on the sofa pillows, wrapped a warm fleece blanket around her, and stood up, walking silently over to Vincent.
"Is she injured?" Vincent asked softly, looking past Elina at the sleeping child.
"Just frightened, Mr. Moretti," Elina whispered, her voice overflowing with emotion. "Dr. Vance examined her. She has no physical injuries."
Elina looked at Vincent, her breath catching in her throat as tears welled in her eyes again. Before he could react, she dropped to her knees in front of him, reaching for his hand.
"Thank you," Elina wept, her voice trembling. "Thank you for saving my baby... I will repay you for the rest of my life..."
Vincent immediately leaned down, grabbing Elina’s elbows, forcing her gently back to her feet.
"Do not ever bow to me, Elina," Vincent said firmly, his eyes shining with a deep, solemn warmth. "Your daughter saved my soul yesterday. I merely did my duty as the master of this house."
He looked at the sleeping child, a soft, protective expression softening his harsh features.
"Marco has prepped the armored vehicles downstairs," Vincent said, his tone shifting into business. "I am going to Brooklyn tonight to settle our account with Sal Valenti."
Elina’s heart dropped. "Tonight? Sir, you're exhausted—"
"If I do not strike tonight, Valenti will send more men," Vincent explained calmly. "This war ends before the sun rises. Marco and ten of my best men will remain here to guard you and Sophia. No one enters this wing without my personal code."
He pulled a small gold key from his pocket and placed it gently into Elina’s hand.
"This opens the master safe in my study," Vincent said. "Inside are bearer bonds and deed certificates made out to you and Sophia. If... if I do not return by noon tomorrow, Marco will drive you both to the airport. You will take a private jet to my estate in Tuscany. You will be safe there for the rest of your lives."
Elina stared at the heavy gold key in her palm, her heart aching with a sudden, painful realization.
She didn't just see a powerful mob boss anymore. She saw a man who had opened his battered heart to protect her family—a man who was willing to walk into the jaws of death to ensure their safety.
"Don't say that," Elina whispered, her eyes locking onto his. "You have to come back."
Vincent looked at her, surprised by the sudden intensity in her voice.
"You have to come back, Vincent," Elina repeated, using his first name for the very first time. "Sophia needs you. The roses in the greenhouse need you."
She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she gently touched the warm wool of his sleeve.
"And I want you to come home," she added softly.
Vincent stared at her, his dark eyes searching her face. A slow, genuine smile—the first real smile he had felt in four years—spread across his face.
May you like
"Then I will come home," Vincent promised softly.
He turned and walked out of the suite, his heavy strides echoing down the hallway, ready to wage war.
