Chapter 4 - The Strike in the Dark
Luca’s expression didn't change, but the air in the penthouse instantly dropped tenfold in temperature.
"The Morettis?" Luca asked smoothly, turning around completely. "I thought Don Moretti retired to Florida last winter."
"His nephew, Frankie Moretti, took over the Midtown gambling operations," Marco explained, setting the tablet on the table. "Evan Mercer owes Frankie eight hundred thousand dollars in illegal sports betting debts. Mercer just offered Frankie a trade."
Clare gasped, setting her glass down so fast the liquid sloshed over the rim. "Evan gambles? He told me his financial losses were from market volatility!"
"Mercer told Frankie Moretti that if the Morettis help him snatch Clare back and humiliate you," Marco continued, looking at Clare with genuine sympathy, "he will give them the confidential zoning blueprints for Duca Holdings’ new Hudson Yards project."
Clare stood up, her cashmere robe falling open slightly, her face pale with horror. "The Hudson Yards project... those files are on my private encrypted laptop. If Frankie Moretti gets those blueprints, he can blackmail the city zoning board and ruin Duca Holdings!"
Luca walked slowly toward her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch firm, grounding, and completely calm.
"Calm down, Clare," Luca said gently. "Nothing is ruined."
"Luca, you don't understand!" Clare said, her voice rising in panic. "Evan knows the security passcodes to my personal apartment! My laptop is sitting on my desk in my living room!"
"Then Evan Mercer has just walked straight into a trap," Luca said, a cold, dark smile spreading across his sharp features.
He looked at Marco. "Is the apartment monitored?"
"My men have had her street surrounded since 9:30 PM," Marco replied with a sharp nod. "Frankie Moretti sent four enforcers to her building five minutes ago. They just broke the front lock."
Luca looked back down at Clare. "Would you like to see how we handle men who steal from Duca Holdings?"
Clare swallowed hard, looking into Luca’s dark eyes. For months, she had been the victim, hiding in corners, praying for the nightmare to end. Tonight, looking at the man standing before her, she felt a fierce, burning desire to see justice served.
"I want my laptop back," Clare said firmly. "And I want Evan Mercer to pay for every single mark he left on my skin."
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Luca’s cold smile widened into something truly magnificent and terrifying.
"Marco," Luca ordered, pulling his jacket back on. "Prepare the cars. It’s time to teach Midtown Manhattan who owns the night."
