Chapter 7 - The Midnight PackingMy hands were still trembling as I zipped up my worn canvas suitcase in the small staff quarters on the ground floor of the mansion.
The digital clock on my bedside table read 2:45 AM.
Outside my tiny window, the wind howled through the manicured hedges of the estate, carrying the distant, ominous rumble of approaching thunder.
I had the check securely tucked inside the lining of my leather purse, right next to the photograph of my mother and me taken on our last trip to Coney Island.
I was free.
I could leave this terrifying world of mafia bosses, syndicate betrayals, and blood money behind forever.
Suddenly, a soft tap sounded at my door.
I froze, my hand hovering over the zipper of my bag.
"Who is it?" I called out, my voice tight.
"It’s me, Miss Claire."
I rushed to the door and pulled it open.
Standing in the dimly lit hallway was Benjamin.
He was wearing his blue cotton pajamas with little rocket ships printed on them, holding his stuffed teddy bear tightly against his chest. His eyes were wide, rimmed with red from crying.
"Benjamin?" I whispered, dropping to my knees in front of him. "What are you doing down here? You should be asleep."
"I heard shouting," the little boy whispered, his lower lip trembling. "Is Vanessa gone?"
I gently placed my hands on his small shoulders.
"Yes, sweetheart. She’s gone. She won't ever bother you again."
Benjamin let out a long, shaky breath, as if a massive boulder had just been lifted off his chest.
"Daddy told me you're leaving," he said, his voice dropping to a mournful whisper. "He said you saved me."
My heart ached at the pure innocence in his dark eyes—eyes that looked so much like Luca's, yet held a gentleness his father had lost long ago.
"I have to go home, Ben," I explained softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "My mother is waiting for me in Queens. We have to start a new chapter."
Benjamin looked down at his teddy bear, squeezing one of its stuffed paws.
"Can I come with you?"
The question caught me completely off guard.
"Ben, your home is here with your father. He loves you more than anything in the world."
"I know," the boy whispered. "But Daddy is always busy with his men, and the big house feels so cold without Mommy. And now without you..."
Before I could answer, another figure stepped out of the shadows at the end of the hallway.
Luca Moretti stood there in his shirtsleeves, watching us with an unreadable expression.
I stood up quickly, lowering my gaze. "Mr. Moretti. I was just finishing up my packing. The driver is scheduled for six, right?"
Luca walked slowly toward us, stopping a few feet away.
He looked down at his son, then back at me.
"The driver's schedule has changed," Luca said quietly.
I frowned. "Sir?"
"My enemies in Brighton Beach know the wedding is off," Luca said, his voice steady and cold. "They know Vanessa failed. Within a few hours, this estate won't just be a home—it will be a target."
My breath caught in my throat. "You mean... they’re coming here?"
"They’ll try," Luca replied, pulling a heavy steel key ring from his pocket and dropping it onto the wooden table beside my door. "Which is why nobody is leaving at six o'clock."
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"Mr. Moretti, you promised—"
"I promised to keep you safe," Luca interrupted, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "And the safest place for you right now isn't a bus station in Queens where my rivals can track your mother's address. It’s inside this house, under my direct protection."
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