Chapter 7 - THE INTERROGATION OF MERCER: SCREAMS IN THE UNDERGROUND WINE CELLAR
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The line went dead with a harsh, sharp click.
My ears buzzed with high-pitched static. The room seemed to tilt beneath my boots, the antique rug sliding like water under my feet.
*Mia.*
Vanessa wasn't bluffing. Antonio Bellini was a monster who had spent forty years drowning his enemies in the shipping channels; orchestrating a staged municipal evacuation at a medical clinic was child’s play for a syndicate of that magnitude.
I didn't think. I didn't wait for permission. I turned and bolted out of the master suite, my boots pounding down the carpeted stairs, taking them two at a time.
"Miss Vance!" Mrs. Carter shouted from the landing, dropping a stack of freshly folded linens. "Miss Vance, where are you going?"
I didn't answer. I flew past the marble foyer, ignoring the two armed sentries who turned toward me in alarm, and tore through the heavy oak door leading to the subterranean stairs. I threw myself down the concrete steps, the freezing underground air biting into my face, the scent of motor oil and sulfur thickening with every floor I descended.
When I reached the third subterranean level, I followed the muffled sound of low voices and the harsh hum of industrial lights.
I pushed past the heavy plastic curtain of the wash bay and froze.
The scene before me was ripped straight out of a nightmare.
Mercer was back in the center of the concrete room, but he was no longer tied to the iron bollard. He was suspended by heavy industrial chains wrapped around his wrists, hoisted three feet off the floor by an overhead engine crane. His torso was bare, covered in dark, violent contusions, sweat, and crimson streaks.
Standing beneath him was Luca.
Luca’s suit jacket and vest were gone. His white dress shirt was soaked with perspiration, the sleeves rolled past his elbows, his forearms smeared with dark smudges of engine grease and blood. He held an unlit cigar in his teeth, his expression completely devoid of human warmth—a butcher inspecting a carcass at the end of a long shift.
Dante was standing near a stainless-steel workbench, holding a blowtorch with a pale blue flame hissing softly from the tip.
"I told you everything!" Mercer sobbed, his voice raw, shredded from screaming. "I don't have the key! Vanessa has it! She keeps it around her neck on a gold chain!"
"Luca!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the concrete walls like a gunshot.
Both men stopped instantly. Dante turned the valve on the blowtorch, killing the flame with a soft pop. Luca slowly turned his head, his gray eyes narrowing in cold displeasure as he took in my disheveled hair, my gasping chest, and the sheer terror on my face.
"Olivia," Luca said, his voice dropping into that dark, dangerously calm register. "I gave strict instructions for you to remain upstairs."
"Mia!" I gasped, stumbling across the floor, completely ignoring the bleeding giant hanging from the ceiling. "Vanessa called me! She called my private phone two minutes ago!"
Luca’s posture shifted instantly. The casual menace vanished, replaced by the razor-sharp focus of an apex predator picking up a scent. He closed the distance between us in three long strides, his large hand gripping my shoulder with firm, steadying pressure.
"What did she say?"
"She... she said Antonio owns the county fire marshals," I choked out, tears finally breaking free and spilling over the surgical dressing on my eye. "She said they’re going to stage a gas leak evacuation at the Oak Brook clinic at four o'clock! She said when they wheel Mia out to the curb... her men are going to take her!"
A profound, suffocating stillness fell over the underground chamber.
Luca turned his head slowly, looking back at Mercer hanging from the chains.
Mercer’s eyes widened in sheer panic. "I didn't know about that! I swear to God, Moretti, that was Antonio's direct line! They didn't tell me about the sister! Don't look at me like that, please—"
"Dante," Luca whispered.
"Boss."
"Get the Oak Brook security team on the tactical line. Put Commander Vance on speaker."
Dante tapped his wrist console, entering a priority override code. Within four seconds, the deep, clipped voice of the security lead at the clinic crackled through the subterranean speakers.
*"Base command, this is Oak Brook exterior. Report."*
"Commander," Luca said, his voice as cold as liquid nitrogen. "At 3:45 PM, a municipal fire inspection vehicle will approach your main gate claiming a subterranean natural gas rupture. Two engine companies will be dispatched behind them."
A pause on the radio line. *"Understood, Boss. Standard protocol for municipal bypass?"*
"Negative," Luca ordered, his gray eyes locked onto Mercer's trembling form. "Initiate Protocol Tartarus. Lock down the entire facility from the inside. Seal the titanium blast doors on the lower level. Move Mia Vance to the subterranean vault beneath the hydrotherapy wing. If any municipal vehicle breaches the outer gates without my personal biometric confirmation, you have authorization to fire for effect."
*"Copy that, Don Moretti. Protocol Tartarus engaged. Facility is now a sealed bunker. No one enters. No one leaves."*
The line disconnected with a sharp tone.
Luca lowered his phone and looked at me. His thumb gently brushed a tear from my cheek, his touch surprisingly clean despite the brutal violence that had just taken place in the room.
"Your sister is safe, Olivia," he said softly. "The clinic vault can withstand a direct missile strike. Antonio Bellini couldn't get through those doors with an army of tanks."
I let out a shuddering, broken breath, my forehead slumping against his chest. I felt the hard, rhythmic thump of his heart beneath his dress shirt, the steady warmth of his body shielding me from the cold concrete and the horrific sight of Mercer hanging from the ceiling.
"Now," Luca murmured, his voice hardening as he turned back toward Mercer. "Let us finish our conversation with the driver."
He walked back over to the suspended man, reaching up to grip Mercer by the chin, forcing his battered face downward.
"Vanessa said she keeps the key around her neck," Luca said. "Where is she right now, Mercer?"
"The... the Drake Hotel," Mercer wheezed, his teeth rattling in his skull. "Antonio called a private meeting with Capo Falcone and Capo Marcone in the French Room on the second floor. They brought Vanessa to present the documents showing you broke the engagement pact. She’s wearing the key under her blouse... a small silver cylinder on a platinum chain."
Luca released the man's chin, pulling a linen handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his hands with meticulous precision.
"Dante."
"Yes, Boss?"
"Cut him down. Put him in a clean suit. He’s going to be our honored guest at the Drake Hotel."
"And what about the council meeting, sir?" Dante asked. "Falcone and Marcone brought twelve armed retainers each. They’re leaning heavily toward Antonio. If we walk in without High Council authorization—"
Luca turned to me, his slate-gray eyes blazing with a dark, triumphant fire that made the breath catch in my throat.
May you like
"We don't need High Council authorization," Luca said, reaching down and taking my left hand, holding the blood-red ruby up to the harsh halogen light. "We have the Matriarch."
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