Chapter 3 - The Offshore Terminal Raid and the Hidden VaultThe cold Chicago wind whipped across the open deck of the Moretti security launch as we sliced through the churning black waves of Lake Michigan toward the offshore terminal.
The Star Island private harbor was miles behind us now, rising out of the ocean like an industrial fortress of steel and iron. Floodlights blazed from the high drilling derricks, casting long, eerie shadows across the landing pads where cargo cranes stood silent against the starry sky.
I stood near the starboard railing, pulling my thin, wine-stained apron tightly around my shoulders to ward off the biting salt spray. Even though Luca had ordered one of the estate housekeepers to hand me a dry wool sweater before we departed, the cold dampness of the lake air still seemed to settle deep into my bones.
Gabriel was down in the lower engine room running diagnostic checks on the secondary navigation systems, leaving Luca and me alone near the pilot house.
Luca stood beside the helm, his broad shoulders braced against the rolling motion of the boat, his dark hair ruffled by the gale. He stared out across the dark water toward the looming platform, his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line.
“Are you freezing?”
His deep baritone broke through the roar of the twin diesel engines.
I blinked, turning my head to look at him. “I’m fine, Mr. Moretti. Thank you.”
Luca let out a low, humorless scoff. He reached inside his heavy leather overcoat, unbuttoned a thick, luxurious cashmere wrap, and stepped closer. Before I could protest, he draped the soft, warm fabric over my shoulders, wrapping it securely around my neck. The cashmere still carried his distinct body heat and the rich scent of cedar and cologne.
“Don’t call me Mr. Moretti when we are out here, Rebecca,” he said quietly, his green eyes glinting in the pale light of the dashboard instruments. “It sounds entirely too formal for a woman who just saved my family from a hostile takeover.”
“What should I call you, then?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the hum of the turbines.
“Luca,” he replied simply. “Just Luca.”
Before I could process the heavy intimacy of his words, the launch slowed abruptly, gliding alongside the rubber-padded landing platform of the offshore terminal. Massive steel pylons stretched down into the dark abyss of the lake, dripping with saltwater and barnacles.
“We’re here,” Luca said, his tone instantly shifting from warm to lethal.
He pressed a comm button on the dash. “Gabriel. Cut the engines. Let’s drift in silently. I don't want the divers on the southwest pylon knowing we’ve arrived.”
“Copy that, Luca,” Gabriel’s voice crackled back through the static. “Engines are dead. We’re drifting into slip four.”
The launch slid effortlessly against the rubber bumpers of the terminal dock.
Before the deckhands could even secure the mooring lines, Luca leaped gracefully from the gunwale onto the metal grating of the platform, his boots hitting the iron with a heavy, deliberate thud. He turned, extending a large, powerful hand toward me.
“Take my hand, Rebecca. Watch your step—the steel is slick with lake spray.”
I placed my trembling hand in his. His grip was warm, secure, and infinitely strong, lifting me effortlessly from the rolling deck onto the solid footing of the platform.
As soon as my feet touched the grating, a sudden commotion echoed from the far side of the massive fuel storage tanks near the eastern crane.
“Hey! Who’s down there by the auxiliary winch?”
A gruff voice shouted across the metal scaffolding, followed by the frantic splashing of water.
Gabriel came running up the iron stairs from the lower deck, clutching a heavy tactical sidearm in his right hand. “Luca! They’re cutting the secondary mooring lines! It’s the two divers Vanessa hired!”
Luca didn't panic. He didn't even draw a weapon. He simply walked toward the edge of the catwalk, looking down into the dark, churning water below where two men in black wetsuits were scrambling to board a high-speed inflatable Zodiac raft.
“Going somewhere, gentlemen?” Luca’s voice boomed across the open water, carrying an effortless, terrifying authority that made both divers freeze in their tracks.
The diver closest to the motor cursed loudly in Italian, grabbing the throttle of the Zodiac. “Cut the cord! Let’s get out of here before the guards—”
“If you touch that throttle,” Luca interrupted softly, stepping right to the edge of the open guardrail, “my tactical team on the upper gantry will drop a heavy steel shipping container directly on top of your rubber raft. And trust me, the lake floor out here is nearly four hundred feet deep. Nobody will find your bones until the salt has eaten through your dive suits.”
The two divers exchanged a look of pure terror. The engine sputtered, died, and the driver slowly raised both hands in the air.
“Don’t shoot, Don Moretti! We were just hired guns! We didn't know anything about a family feud!” the lead diver shouted, his voice shaking with fear.
“Bring them up,” Luca commanded without looking back.
Within minutes, the two wet, shivering divers were hauled onto the steel platform and forced onto their knees by Gabriel and two security operatives.
Luca stood over them, towering like a dark avenging angel against the glare of the rig floodlights. He crouched down slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, staring directly into the eyes of the lead diver.
“Who hired you?” Luca asked, his voice deathly quiet.
“It... it was Miss Bellini’s chief of staff!” the diver stammered. “He paid us fifty thousand dollars upfront to sever the trust documents and plant a false explosives charge so the Coast Guard would impound the entire terminal!”
Gabriel let out a sharp breath, his face turning pale with anger. “Those bastards were trying to frame us for domestic terrorism so the maritime commission would revoke our operating license.”
Luca slowly stood up. He didn't look surprised in the least. He had already pieced the entire puzzle together the moment I translated Admiral Bellini’s words back in the Star Island dining room.
He turned his gaze away from the cowering divers, looking down at me where I stood safely beside the control console, wrapped tightly in his expensive cashmere coat.
“Rebecca,” Luca said, a strange, intense warmth softening the hard angles of his face.
“Yes, Luca?”
May you like
He stepped across the metal grating, stopping just inches away from me. The lake wind howled around us, but in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade into absolute nothingness.
“You saved my family tonight,” Luca whispered, lifting his hand to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “And now, you are going to help me rebuild it—starting right here, at the edge of the water.”
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