Chapter 6 - The Velvet Trap
The morning of the custody hearing arrived with a biting November frost that coated the Chicago skyline in a shimmering layer of ice.
Sarah stood in front of the full-length mirror in her suite at the Moretti estate, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her. She was wearing a tailored charcoal wool dress that Vance had insisted on—expensive, perfectly fitted, and projecting an aura of quiet, unassailable competence. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek, elegant knot, and her makeup was understated yet flawless.
There was no trace of the desperate, shivering woman who had sat in Giovani’s restaurant nursing a lukewarm glass of water.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Julian entered. He was wearing a custom-tailored obsidian suit, his dark hair combed back with precise elegance. He looked every inch the untouchable Capo dei Capi, yet his eyes softened the moment they landed on Sarah.
"The car is waiting," Julian said, his voice smooth. "And Marcus called. Gary’s legal team is walking into a buzzsaw they don't even know exists."
"I'm terrified," Sarah admitted quietly, her hands trembling as she fastened a pearl earring.
Julian crossed the room in two long strides. He stopped directly behind her, his large hands resting gently on her shoulders. Through the fabric of her dress, she could feel the radiating heat of his palms.
"Fear is just a lack of data," Julian murmured against her ear, his breath warm and steady. "And today, we hold all the cards."
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the Cook County Courthouse. The media circus outside was deafening—flashbulbs popping, reporters shouting questions about the Moretti family car parked illegally in the bus lane, and camera crews scrambling as Julian’s bodyguards formed an impenetrable wall around Sarah.
As they walked up the grand stone steps, Sarah caught sight of Gary. Her ex-husband was standing near the entrance, flanked by his slick, expensive attorney and his vapid new wife. Gary’s expression of smug confidence shattered the instant he saw who was walking beside Sarah.
His jaw dropped. He stared at Julian Moretti—the most feared man in the Midwest—holding an umbrella over Sarah’s head as if she were royalty.
May you like
"Sarah," Gary stammered, stepping forward. "What is... who the hell is that?"
"Keep walking, Mr. Bennett," Julian said, not even turning his head to look at him as they swept past into the courthouse doors. "Unless you want your next court appearance to be in a federal penitentiary."
