Chapter 6 - The Spider's Web
Over the next forty-eight hours, Vivien moved through the mansion like a conqueror.
With Elena gone, she hired her own temporary staff—men and women whose backgrounds Rocco instantly intercepted and cross-referenced. Two of the footmen were former enforcers for the Moretti family, hired under false identities to oversee security for the gala. Vivien believed she was securing the perimeter for her masters; in reality, she was filling my house with targets that my men had already sighted.
On Thursday afternoon, I visited the Greenwich safe house.
The house was tucked deep within the Connecticut woods, surrounded by high electric fencing and patrolled by men who had served my father for thirty years.
When I entered the sunny kitchen, the aroma of garlic, crushed tomatoes, and fresh basil hit me. Elena was at the stove, stirring a pot of marinara, while Mia sat at the wooden kitchen island coloring in a coloring book.
When Mia saw me, she dropped her yellow crayon and raised her arms.
"Uncle Lorenzo!"
I couldn't help the smile that broke across my face. I scooped the little girl into my arms, lifting her toward the ceiling before settling her on my hip.
"Are they feeding you enough pasta, Mia?"
She giggled and nodded vigorously. "Mommy made meatballs! But Uncle Rocco won't let us go to the playground."
"Uncle Rocco is keeping the playground safe for you," I said softly, tapping her nose. "A few more days, little one. Then you can play wherever you want."
Elena wiped her hands on an apron, her face looking healthier, color returning to her cheeks now that the shadow of Vivien’s threats had lifted. "Mr. Duca. Thank you for the groceries, for the guards... for everything. I still can't believe we’re here."
"You shouldn't have had to live through that hell, Elena," I said, setting Mia back down on her chair and sliding an envelope onto the counter.
Elena looked down at it. "What is this?"
"The deed to a brownstone in Brooklyn, and a trust fund in Mia’s name," I answered plainly. "It’s already in your name. Whatever happens after tomorrow, you and your daughter will never have to work for anyone unless you choose to."
Elena’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head, pushing the envelope back toward me. "No, Mr. Duca. Your mother paid me well. She treated me like family. I didn't stay quiet to get money. I stayed quiet because I loved Isabella, and I wanted to protect her memory."
"And you protected me," I said, putting my hand over hers and firmly pushing the envelope back into her grasp. "My mother would have wanted this. Mia deserves a future free of fear. Keep it. Or I’ll be deeply offended."
She choked back a sob, nodding gratefully. "What will happen tomorrow night?"
"Justice," I replied. "Elena, I need you to do one last thing for me."
"Anything."
"Tomorrow night, at eight o'clock, Rocco will bring you to the Plaza Hotel. You won't enter through the service doors. You will walk in through the grand entrance, wearing the finest dress New York has to offer."
Elena’s eyes widened. "To the gala? Among those people? I’m just a maid, Mr. Duca."
"You are the star witness in a murder trial that will never see a courtroom," I said coldly. "You are the woman who outsmarted the snake. Tomorrow, you stand beside me."
Returning to Manhattan that evening, the tension in the air was palpable. The city felt electric, charged with the approaching storm.
When I entered the master penthouse suite, Vivien was standing before a three-way mirror, trying on her emerald-green couture ballgown. The dress was breathtaking, clinging to her silhouette and trailing across the carpet like velvet moss. She turned, her hazel eyes glittering with triumph.
"Do you like it, darling?" She asked, spinning slowly. "Is it worthy of the future Mrs. Duca?"
I looked at the emerald fabric. It was the same shade of green my mother had worn to her last charity ball.
"It’s stunning," I said, stepping behind her, resting my hands on her bare shoulders in the mirror. I looked at our reflection: the predator and the executioner, dressed in silk. "Green is the color of envy. And poison."
Vivien’s breath hitched slightly, but she laughed, leaning back against my chest. "You have such a dark sense of humor, Lorenzo. Tomorrow night, we unite this city."
May you like
"Yes," I whispered into her ear, my lips brushing her perfume. "Tomorrow night, every debt is paid in full."
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