Chapter 5 - Shadows in the EstateThe midnight drive back to Lake Forest was quiet, broken only by the steady swish of the windshield wipers cutting through the pouring rain. My mind was racing, adrenaline still pumping through my veins from the showdown at the warehouse. We had won the battle against the Commission, but I knew my mother wouldn't go down quietly. Vivian Moretti was a survivor of a hundred underworld wars; she didn't lose—she simply regrouped.
When the armored Mercedes rolled through the iron gates of the estate, something felt wrong.
The perimeter floodlights illuminating the north gardens were completely dark. The guard post at the side gate was empty, the door swinging lazily in the wind.
“Leo,” I barked, my hand instantly dropping to the Sig Sauer tucked into my shoulder holster. “Halt the car.”
Leo killed the engine immediately, pulling the car into the shadow of the massive oak trees flanking the driveway. In the back seat, my heart hammered against my ribs. Grace was back at the manor, sleeping in the east wing, guarded by the men I personally trusted with my life.
Or so I thought.
“Check the perimeter,” I ordered Leo and the two enforcers in the trailing car. “Move silent. If anyone’s on the grounds, take them alive if you can, but don't hesitate to shoot.”
We swept through the wet grass like ghosts, hugging the stone walls of the mansion. The heavy oak front door was unlocked, ajar by an inch, weeping water onto the marble foyer.
Inside, the house was dead silent. Too silent.
No grandfather clock ticking. No low murmur of guards talking by the conservatory. Just the sound of rain drumming against the skylights.
“Upstairs,” I whispered, motioning toward the grand staircase.
We moved in a tight, tactical formation, our boots silent on the plush Persian runners. As we reached the landing of the east wing—the hallway leading directly to the master suite where Grace was staying—a metallic smell hit the air.
Copper.
Blood.
My chest seized. I broke formation, sprinting down the hallway, throwing my shoulder against the double doors of the master suite.
The door crashed open.
Inside, the room was empty. The bed was unmade, sheets thrown back in a frantic scramble. On the mahogany nightstand, a porcelain lamp lay shattered across the floor. Near the window, standing with her back to us, was my mother.
Vivian Moretti wore her emerald silk robe, holding a glass of scotch in one hand, staring out at the rain-soaked gardens.
“Mother,” I growled, raising my pistol as I scanned the empty room for threats. “Where is my wife?”
Vivian didn't flinch. She took a slow sip of her drink, then turned around to face me, a serene, chilling smile playing on her painted lips.
“She’s gone, Ethan,” Vivian said smoothly, as if discussing the weather.
“Where did you send her?” I roared, crossing the room in three strides, grabbing her by the silk lapels of her robe and slamming her back against the windowpane. The glass groaned under the impact. “Where is Grace?!”
Vivian looked down at the barrel of the gun pressing against her collarbone, completely unfazed. She raised her free hand and pointed out the window toward the dark, churning waters of Lake Michigan at the edge of the property.
“She realized the truth, Ethan,” Vivian whispered, her voice laced with venomous satisfaction. “She realized that as long as you wear the crown, she and that baby will never be safe from the wolves circling your throne. So she packed her small bag while you were playing big boss at the warehouse... and she walked away.”
“You lying bitch!” I shouted, pressing the gun harder against her chest. “You had her taken!”
“I didn't have to lift a finger,” Vivian smiled coldly. “I simply reminded her of what happened to your father’s enemies... and what happens to the women foolish enough to love a Moretti. She took the car keys from the mudroom and drove south toward the city. Alone.”
May you like
My blood ran completely cold. I dropped my hands from her lapels, stumbled backward, and bolted out of the room, ignoring my mother’s mocking laughter echoing down the hallway.
“Leo!” I screamed into the radio clipped to my collar as I sprinted down the stairs. “Get the cars moving! Track the license plate of the black Mercedes sedan! Find her before she reaches the city!”
