Chapter 2 - The Ghost of District SevenThe east wing of Villa Moretti felt less like a bedroom and more like a fortress disguised as a luxury suite. Bulletproof glass windows looked out over the private cliffs of Lake Como, and the heavy oak doors were reinforced with steel deadbolts.
After the maids escorted us in with arms full of warm clothes, fresh milk, and toys for Emma, I sat on the edge of the velvet king-sized bed, my mind spinning out of control.
How did a sniper’s target marker wind up inside a thrift-store stuffed animal?
A soft knock at the door broke my trance.
It was Luca, Alessandro’s stoic right-hand man, carrying a secure laptop and a thick manila folder. His face bore the scars of a dozen knife fights, but his eyes were sharp and analytical.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Luca nodded respectfully. “Boss wants you to look at something.”
He set the laptop on the mahogany desk and flipped it open. The screen glowed, illuminating a digital archive of personnel files, security logs, and high-resolution photographs.
“The rabbit,” Luca said, tapping the screen. “Boss analyzed the stitch pattern under a forensic microscope. That thread isn't commercial. It’s military-grade nylon, manufactured exclusively in a private textile mill in Zurich. A mill owned by a shell company controlled by Marco Vane’s chief financial advisor.”
“But how did it get into a charity box in District Seven?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. “I found it in a cardboard bin outside St. Jude’s parish six months ago. The church was handing out winter coats and toys to single mothers.”
“St. Jude’s parish,” Luca muttered, his eyes narrowing. He pulled up a blueprint of the city. “That church is run by Father Thomas. Who happens to be the uncle of Matteo Rossi—one of the twelve capos sitting at the dining table tonight.”
My breath caught. “Matteo Rossi? The man who toasted Alessandro during dinner?”
“The very same,” Luca said grimly. “Boss suspects Vane didn't die in that explosion three years ago. He went underground, built a new network using church charities as a front for moving encrypted messages inside children’s toys, and planted a mole right inside the Moretti empire to feed him security blueprints.”
“And Vivian?”
“Vivian was just a pawn. Vane’s people likely used her vanity and arrogance to guarantee you’d be brought in to clean the main hall tonight, ensuring the rabbit was brought near Alessandro’s inner circle.” Luca looked straight at me. “You and Emma weren't supposed to be noticed by the bosses. You were just supposed to be invisible background noise while the drop was made.”
A cold shiver raced down my spine. If Emma hadn’t stepped forward to defend me, if Vivian hadn’t slapped me and drawn Alessandro’s attention, the toy would have sat on the console table unnoticed, waiting for someone to collect it during the night’s gala.
“What happens now?” I whispered.
Before Luca could answer, the door swung open wide.
Alessandro walked in, having shed his suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing thick, corded muscles and dark tattoos curling up his forearms. He looked exhausted, yet dangerously alert.
“Now,” Alessandro said, his voice echoing in the grand room, “we play their game.”
He walked over to the desk, staring down at the open laptop. “Matteo Rossi thinks he’s clever. He thinks by using a child’s toy as a dead-drop carrier, he’s invisible to the old ways of the mafia.”
“You’re going to confront him?” I asked, standing up.
“Confronting him is a waste of time,” Alessandro replied, turning his dark, piercing gaze toward me. “If we call him out publicly without absolute proof of his direct contact with Vane, the other eleven families will tear themselves apart in a civil war, and half of Milan will burn. We need to draw him out. We need him to panic.”
“How?”
May you like
Alessandro took a step closer, closing the distance between us until I could smell the faint scent of expensive cologne and gunpowder clinging to his skin.
“By hosting a private summit tomorrow night,” Alessandro said quietly. “In this very villa. And you, Elena… you and Emma are going to be the guests of honor.”
