Chapter 4 - The Lions in the Parlor
The Moretti estate in Oak Park was not a home; it was a fortress masked as an Italian palace.
Wrought-iron gates twenty feet high guarded the perimeter, surrounded by thick stone walls covered in dark ivy. Security cameras rotated silently in the night air, and armed guards in dark suits moved through the shadows of the manicured lawns like ghosts.
The main house was a masterpiece of classic limestone, featuring high arched windows, marble pillars, and a sweeping driveway paved with dark cobblestones.
It was 2:00 AM when the black Lincoln town car pulled through the iron gates.
I sat in the back seat, holding a brand-new medical bag stuffed with Leo’s prescription inhalers, liquid steroids, and a state-of-the-art portable nebulizer—all acquired within twenty minutes at the pharmacy thanks to Lorenzo’s silver card.
Beside me sat Rose Moretti. She had fallen asleep during the drive, her silver head resting comfortably against my shoulder, her small hand still clutching mine.
Lorenzo sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror as the car brought us to a stop beneath the grand stone portico.
"Marco," Lorenzo said to the driver. "Carry my mother upstairs to her suite. Be quiet."
"Yes, Boss," Marco replied softly.
The rear door opened, and Marco gently helped Rose out of the vehicle, carrying her up the marble steps with the ease of a man handling fragile glass.
I stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, looking up at the towering mansion in awe.
"It’s large," I whispered.
"It keeps the world out," Lorenzo said, stepping up beside me. He looked down at my worn canvas shoes and my rumpled uniform. "Your belongings from your apartment in Pilsen are already being moved. Your brother and your aunt will be brought here by four o'clock tomorrow afternoon."
My jaw dropped. "How did you... I didn't even give you my address!"
Lorenzo offered no explanation, merely gesturing toward the heavy carved oak front doors. "Welcome to your new home, Sophie."
We stepped inside.
The grand foyer was lit by a massive glass chandelier suspended over a double-curved marble staircase. The floors were polished dark walnut, reflecting the warm glow of oil paintings depicting Italian landscapes.
Standing near the base of the staircase were two people.
The first was a tall, strikingly handsome man in his late twenties, wearing a slim-cut navy suit with open collar. He had Lorenzo’s sharp facial features, but his eyes were lighter, filled with a restless, arrogant energy.
The second was a woman in her early thirties, dressed in an immaculate velvet pantsuit, her sharp blonde hair cut into a precise bob. Her eyes were hard, calculating, and cold.
"Lorenzo," the young man called out, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. "We heard about the scene at the Palmer House. Is it true? Did you publicly threaten Senator Vane over a maid?"
Lorenzo didn't break his stride, walking casually toward the center of the foyer.
"This is my younger brother, Dante," Lorenzo said to me, ignoring his brother's question entirely. "And my cousin, Gina, who manages our legal holdings."
Gina stepped forward, her expensive heels clicking sharply against the walnut floor. She swept her cold eyes over my uniform, her lip curling in immediate disdain.
"Lorenzo, have you lost your mind?" Gina hissed, keeping her voice low. "Senator Vane controls the zoning committee for the West Side rail project! We’ve spent eighteen months bribing his staff! And you threw him out of a charity gala because his wife got into an argument with an employee?!"
"Beatrice Vane raised her hand against a woman protecting our mother," Lorenzo said, his tone dropping an octave into dangerous territory.
"Our mother is sick!" Dante snapped, stepping up beside Gina. "She shouldn't have been at the gala in the first place! She wandered away from her guards! You know how bad her episodes are getting, Lorenzo! She belongs in a specialized care facility in Switzerland, not wandering around ballrooms spilling wine on senator’s wives!"
The air in the foyer went instantly cold.
Lorenzo stopped moving.
He slowly turned his head toward Dante.
"Say that again," Lorenzo whispered.
Dante flinched. The arrogance on his handsome face withered instantly under his older brother’s stare. He swallowed hard, taking a small half-step backward.
"Mama stays here," Lorenzo said, his voice quiet, flat, and absolute. "She stays in this house. She stays with her family. And if I ever hear you suggest putting her in an institution again, Dante... I will strip you of your command in the East Side docks and send you to run our warehouse in Gary, Indiana."
Dante clenched his jaw, his face burning red with humiliation, but he didn't dare utter another word.
Gina stepped between the brothers, raising her hands smoothly. "Alright, Lorenzo. Calm down. We’re all stressed. But who is this girl?" She gestured toward me. "Is she a witness? Do I need to have her sign a non-disclosure agreement?"
Lorenzo reached out, placing a heavy, protective hand on the middle of my back. The heat of his palm burned through my thin uniform shirt.
"This is Sophie Clark," Lorenzo announced clearly, his voice carrying to every corner of the grand foyer. "She is my mother’s personal companion. She lives here now. She has full access to the primary floor, the gardens, and the medical wing."
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Gina stared at Lorenzo in total disbelief. "A maid? You’re bringing an outsider into the main house?"
"She isn't an outsider anymore," Lorenzo said. He turned his face down toward me, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an unyielding intensity. "She belongs to this house now. And anyone who disrespects her... disrespects me."
