Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Donati
The air in the subterranean holding room beneath the Moretti mansion was cold and smelled of damp stone and iron.
Vanessa Vale sat tied to a heavy steel chair beneath a single hanging bulb. Her expensive designer dress was crumpled, her hair disheveled, but her eyes still burned with arrogance.
The heavy iron door creaked open, and Vincent walked in, accompanied by Luca.
"Vincent!" Vanessa spat, her voice echoing off the damp walls. "You think you can hold me here like a prisoner? My father knows I’m here! If I don't return to the Vale estate by morning, Donati's men will launch an all-out war against your syndicate!"
Vincent pulled up a wooden chair and sat down opposite her, resting his hands on his knees. He looked at her with an terrifying lack of emotion.
"Donati's men are already at war with me, Vanessa," Vincent said softly. "The moment you put that needle under my pillow, the war began. The only difference is, you thought I would be dead before the first shot was fired."
Vanessa sneered, tossing her head back. "You were weak! You were soft! You spent years staring at old photographs of that dead white-trash girl, ignoring the political power my family offered you! Donati offered my father real control over the Midwest territory. All he needed was your shipping ports and your death."
Vincent leaned forward, his face inches from hers. "That 'white-trash girl' is upstairs right now, Vanessa. Alive. And so is my daughter."
Vanessa's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "What...? No... That's impossible! Nora Brooks died in a car crash nine years ago! We made sure of it!"
"You made sure your father's dirty cops threatened a pregnant woman into fleeing the city," Vincent corrected her, his voice dropping to a whisper that made the hair on her arms stand up. "You stole nine years of my life with my family. You made my daughter sleep in a shelter. And for that, death would be an insultingly easy way out for you."
"What are you going to do to me?" Vanessa stammered, her arrogant facade finally crumbling into genuine terror.
"You are going to make a phone call," Vincent ordered, gesturing to Luca, who produced Vanessa’s encrypted satellite phone. "You are going to call Don Lorenzo Donati. You will tell him the poison has finally taken effect. You will tell him I am dead, and that he needs to come to the docks at midnight to finalize the transfer of the shipping manifests."
"And if I refuse?" Vanessa gasped.
Vincent leaned in closer, his dark eyes pitch black in the dim light. "If you refuse, I will release the unedited audio recordings of you plotting to murder Senator Vale to secure his insurance payout—recordings my men recovered from your safe an hour ago. Let us see if your beloved father saves you then."
Vanessa choked on her breath, realizing every move she had ever made had been exposed. Shaking violently, she nodded her head. "I'll make the call... I'll do it!"
Upstairs, in the grand living room, my mother and I were seated near the roaring marble fireplace. Female security guards had brought us warm food, clean clothes, and hot chocolate.
Despite the luxury of the mansion, my mother remained tense, staring at the double doors every few seconds.
"Mommy?" I whispered, pulling on her sleeve. "Are we going to have to run away again?"
Nora looked down at me, her eyes filling with warmth as she wrapped her arm tightly around my shoulders. "No, sweetie. We aren't running anymore. Your father... he won't let anyone hurt us again."
"Is he really my daddy?" I asked, looking at the large oil portrait of Vincent hanging above the mantelpiece.
"Yes, baby," Nora whispered, kissing the top of my head. "He’s your daddy. He loved us very, very much, even when we were apart."
The double doors opened, and Vincent stepped back into the room. The cold, lethal air surrounding him instantly evaporated the moment his eyes fell upon the two of us. He walked over to the fireplace, tossing his coat onto a chair, and knelt beside my couch.
"The doctor says you need sleep, Lily," Vincent said gently, his large hand brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.
"I'm not sleepy, Mr... I mean, Daddy," I mumbled, blushing slightly at the new word.
Vincent’s chest expanded as he took a deep, emotional breath, a genuine smile illuminating his features. "You don't have to force yourself, little mouse. But starting tomorrow, things are going to change around here. This house belongs to you and your mother now. No more shelters. No more hiding."
He looked up at Nora, his expression turning serious. "Lorenzo Donati thinks I am lying on a mortuary table right now. He is bringing his entire inner circle to the port at midnight, expecting to take control of my empire."
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Nora’s face turned pale. "Vincent, it’s a trap! What if he suspects something?"
"Then he will find out why they call me the Don of Chicago," Vincent replied calmly. "I have spent three weeks acting like a dying man to catch the snakes in my grass. Tonight, I chop off their heads."
