Chapter 5 - The Engagement That Wasn't Supposed to Be Real
Massimo arrived at 9:17 p.m.
He came alone.
That frightened Lorenzo more than an army would have.
His uncle walked through the Moretti estate wearing a charcoal overcoat dusted with snow, carrying no visible weapon, smiling at the guards like a beloved relative arriving late for Christmas dinner.
He hugged Lorenzo.
Lorenzo allowed it.
"Where's Mateo?" Massimo asked.
"Resting."
"And your heroic maid?"
Lorenzo's face gave nothing away.
"Why?"
Massimo shrugged.
"I hear she saved his life."
"You hear quickly."
"I worry about family."
The words nearly made Lorenzo laugh.
Instead, he poured two drinks in his study.
Massimo accepted his.
Lorenzo did not touch his own.
For twenty minutes they spoke as though nothing were wrong.
Weather.
Business.
A charity gala scheduled for Saturday.
The city's upcoming election.
Then Massimo put down his glass.
"You're watching me."
"I usually do."
"Not like this."
Lorenzo leaned back.
"Should I be?"
His uncle smiled.
"You always were a suspicious boy."
"You always said it kept me alive."
"It has."
"Mateo too?"
Something passed through Massimo's expression.
Gone instantly.
But Lorenzo saw it.
"Mateo's alive because he's stubborn," Massimo said.
"And Lydia."
"Yes. Lydia."
Massimo turned his glass.
"Interesting woman."
"You know her?"
"No."
"You called her DeLuca."
Silence.
Massimo smiled again.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The trap."
Lorenzo said nothing.
"You called me here hoping I'd say something useful."
"You did."
Massimo laughed softly.
"Your father would be proud."
"Would he?"
That landed.
Massimo's eyes sharpened.
Lorenzo decided not to show the notebook.
Not yet.
"Someone tried to kill Mateo."
"I heard."
"Someone also tried to kill Lydia."
"Unfortunate."
"Someone connected to Carbone."
"She's been unreliable for years."
"You knew?"
"I suspected."
"You didn't tell me."
"You don't tell me everything either."
The two men stared at each other.
Family history filled the silence like smoke.
Finally Massimo stood.
"You should attend Saturday's gala."
Lorenzo frowned.
"We're discussing attempted murder."
"We've discussed enough."
Massimo buttoned his coat.
"And bring Lydia."
Every instinct in Lorenzo went cold.
"Why?"
"Because people are already talking."
"About?"
"The maid who saved Mateo."
Massimo smiled.
"You know Chicago. A billionaire crime prince, a mysterious woman, an assassination attempt. People love stories."
"She's not going."
"Then they'll wonder why you're hiding her."
Massimo walked to the door.
Before leaving, he turned.
"One more piece of advice."
"I have enough."
"Publicly protect her."
Lorenzo stared.
"If people believe she matters to you, anyone targeting her will think twice."
"And anyone targeting me will use her."
Massimo smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
Then he left.
Lydia had listened from the adjoining security room.
When Lorenzo entered, she immediately said, "Absolutely not."
"I didn't ask."
"You have that expression."
"What expression?"
"The one where you're planning something I will hate."
Antonio looked away to hide a smile.
Lorenzo ignored him.
"Massimo wants you at Saturday's charity gala."
"Then I definitely don't want to go."
"I want you there."
Her mouth opened.
"No."
"He expects me to hide you."
"Great. Let's disappoint him by hiding me."
"If he believes you're afraid, he controls our decisions."
"He tried to kill your brother."
"We don't have enough admissible evidence."
"You're a mafia boss. Since when are you concerned about admissible evidence?"
Antonio coughed.
Lorenzo slowly turned toward him.
Antonio found the ceiling fascinating.
Lydia continued.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You want to parade me in front of the person who may have ordered my murder."
"With seventy armed security personnel in the building."
"That sentence does not reassure normal people."
"You've never seemed normal."
She glared.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Lorenzo explained the rest.
The gala was public.
Journalists would attend.
Politicians.
Business leaders.
Massimo's allies.
If Lorenzo openly placed Lydia under Moretti protection, harming her afterward would point directly toward the internal conflict.
It would limit Massimo's options.
Lydia understood.
She still hated it.
"What exactly am I supposed to be?"
"Guest."
"No one will believe your maid suddenly became your guest."
"Former maid."
"Did you just fire me?"
"For security purposes."
"You are unbelievable."
Mateo, when told, solved the argument.
He wanted to attend too.
Lorenzo refused.
Mateo stared until he changed his mind.
Three days later, the Moretti family arrived at the gala together.
Mateo entered first in his customized wheelchair.
Lorenzo walked beside him.
Then Lydia stepped from the car.
The cameras exploded.
She wore a deep navy gown chosen by one of Lorenzo's cousins.
Not because Lorenzo had requested it.
He had made that very clear.
Twice.
Lydia's dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
She looked uncomfortable until she saw Mateo.
Then she smiled.
Lorenzo forgot what the reporter in front of him had asked.
"Mr. Moretti?"
He blinked.
"Repeat."
The journalist smiled knowingly.
"Who is Miss Coppola?"
Lorenzo's mind moved quickly.
He had intended to say family friend.
Then across the entrance hall he saw Massimo.
Watching.
Smiling.
Beside him stood Daniel Russo.
The attorney Carbone had named.
Russo's eyes were not on Lorenzo.
They were on Lydia.
The expression was unmistakable.
Recognition.
Fear.
Lorenzo understood instantly.
Massimo wanted Lydia publicly identified.
Perhaps so Russo could decide whether she had recognized him from years earlier.
Lorenzo needed to give them something else to think about.
He reached for Lydia's hand.
She looked at him.
He leaned close.
"Trust me."
"Those words never lead anywhere good."
Then he turned toward the cameras.
"She's my fiancée."
Silence.
Then chaos.
Reporters shouted.
Flashbulbs erupted.
Lydia stopped breathing.
Mateo's eyes widened.
Antonio actually looked stunned.
Across the room, Massimo's smile vanished.
Exactly what Lorenzo wanted.
Lydia managed to maintain her expression until they entered a private elevator.
Then she turned on him.
"Your what?"
"Fiancée."
"I heard you!"
Mateo made a sound suspiciously close to laughter.
Lydia pointed at him.
"Do not encourage this."
Lorenzo adjusted his cuff.
"It worked."
"You announced an engagement!"
"Public protection."
"You could've called me your friend."
"No one believes I have those."
Antonio coughed again.
Lydia stared at Lorenzo.
"This is temporary."
"Obviously."
"Very temporary."
"Agreed."
"You will correct the press."
"When it's safe."
"Tomorrow."
"No."
"Monday."
"No."
"Before I turn eighty?"
"We'll discuss."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I liked you better when I thought you were just terrifying."
"When was that?"
"This morning."
The elevator opened.
They stepped into the ballroom.
Every head turned.
Lorenzo felt Lydia's hand tense in his.
He leaned slightly closer.
"Stay beside me."
Her voice was quiet.
"I wasn't planning to wander toward the assassins."
The orchestra played.
People whispered.
Massimo approached.
"Congratulations."
Lorenzo smiled.
"Surprised?"
"Very."
Massimo kissed Lydia's hand.
She did not flinch.
Then Daniel Russo stepped forward.
"Miss Coppola."
Lydia stared at him.
Her face changed.
Lorenzo noticed immediately.
Russo noticed too.
"Have we met?" he asked.
Lydia's voice became thin.
"No."
He smiled.
"I thought perhaps—"
"No."
Lorenzo placed a hand at Lydia's back.
Russo excused himself.
The second he was gone, Lydia whispered, "That's him."
"Who?"
"One of the men who came to my apartment after Mateo was shot."
Lorenzo's entire body went cold.
"The one with the scar?"
"No."
"The quiet one?"
"Yes."
Across the ballroom, Russo was already moving toward a side exit.
Lorenzo signaled Antonio.
But before Antonio reached him, the lights went out.
People screamed.
A gunshot cracked through the ballroom.
Lorenzo grabbed Lydia and pulled her down.
Security surged around Mateo.
Emergency lights flashed red.
Another gunshot.
Glass shattered.
Then Lydia whispered against Lorenzo's shoulder.
"Mateo."
Lorenzo turned.
Mateo's wheelchair was there.
But Mateo wasn't looking at the gunman.
His eyes were fixed on Massimo.
Because in the confusion, Massimo had drawn a pistol.
May you like
And he was pointing it directly at Daniel Russo.
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