Chapter 5 - The Marchetti EstateThe black SUV slipped through the towering wrought-iron gates of the Marchetti estate, leaving the gritty industrial sprawl of Baltimore behind. Perched high on a cliff overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, the sprawling limestone mansion looked like something out of a European gothic novel—imposing, elegant, and heavily fortified.
Ruby stared out the window, clutching her worn canvas tote bag like a shield. Caesar occupied the entire back seat beside her, his massive head resting heavily on her lap as the vehicle hummed along the winding private drive.
"You realize kidnapping a civilian is technically a felony, even for a guy who owns half the shipping docks?" Ruby muttered, stroking the dog’s velvet ears.
In the front passenger seat, Luca didn't turn around. "You aren't a civilian anymore, Ruby. Not since last night. You're an accomplice to a war."
"I am a licensed veterinarian technician!"
"You're the only person on earth my dog trusts unconditionally," Luca corrected smoothly, his voice deep and resonant. "In my world, that makes you the most important VIP in the state of Maryland."
The SUV glided to a halt beneath the grand stone portico. Armed guards in tailored suits stood at attention by the double oak doors, their eyes scanning the treeline with machine-like precision. As soon as the door opened, Caesar bounded out first, sweeping his amber gaze across the perimeter before turning back to nudge Ruby’s hand, urging her out of the vehicle.
Inside, the mansion was a masterpiece of dark mahogany, marble floors, and priceless art, but it felt cold—sterile, like a museum designed for ghosts.
An older woman with silver hair pulled into a tight bun and a sharp, no-nonsense expression hurried down the grand staircase. "Mr. Marchetti, the west wing is secured, but—" She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes landed on Ruby, her faded orange sweater, and the giant Cane Corso tracking mud across the pristine white marble.
"Mrs. Gable," Luca said smoothly, unbuttoning his suit jacket. "Prepare the master guest suite on the second floor. Ms. Hart will be staying with us indefinitely."
Mrs. Gable’s jaw tightened. She looked at Ruby with undisguised judgment, taking in the missing slipper replaced by an old pair of medical Crocs, the dog hair clinging to her trousers, and her overall lack of mafia pedigree.
"The master suite, sir?" Mrs. Gable asked, her voice dripping with frost. "Should I also prepare the guest quarters for her... pet?"
"The dog stays where I stay," Ruby snapped, stepping forward before Luca could answer. Her exhaustion had finally burned away, replaced by pure, unfiltered defiance. "And for the record, Mrs. Gable, I didn't ask to be kidnapped and dragged to a Gothic horror movie set. If it were up to me, I’d be sleeping on my own lumpy cot back at the clinic."
Mrs. Gable blinked, clearly not used to anyone—let alone a plus-size woman in a stained sweater—talking back in the Marchetti household.
To Ruby's utter shock, a low, genuine chuckle escaped Luca’s lips. He turned to Mrs. Gable with a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.
"Do as she says, Mrs. Gable," Luca instructed softly. "And have the kitchen prepare something substantial. Ms. Hart’s medical supplies were destroyed, and she looks like she hasn't eaten a decent meal since yesterday afternoon."
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"I ate a protein bar at three p.m.," Ruby muttered under her breath, though her stomach immediately betrayed her with a loud, unmistakable rumble.
Luca’s lips twitched. "See? Even the evidence agrees."
