Chapter 3 - the house on lake shore drive
The sleek black motorcade glided through the heavy wrought-iron gates of the Moretti estate on Lake Shore Drive, stopping in front of the grand stone mansion overlooking the grey, stormy waters of Lake Michigan.
Nathan stepped out of the lead armored SUV, carrying Sarah gently in his arms, while Marcus followed closely behind carrying Lily.
The estate’s private medical team, led by Dr. Harrison, was already waiting in the foyer with a mobile stretcher and IV monitors.
"Get her to the second-floor medical suite immediately," Nathan ordered, his deep voice commanding total obedience from the staff. "Full blood panel, emergency vitals, and twenty-four-hour monitoring. I want three armed guards stationed at her door."
"Understood, Don Moretti," Dr. Harrison said, guiding the nurses as they wheeled Sarah up the grand staircase.
Lily stood near the marble fountain in the center of the foyer, her small hand holding onto Nathan's suit trousers, her blue ribbon slightly crooked in her dark hair. She looked around the massive mansion—the soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and polished marble floors—with wide, cautious eyes.
Nathan crouched down until he was at eye level with his daughter. He reached out, his broad hand gently adjusting the blue ribbon in her hair.
"Are you hungry, Lily?" Nathan asked softly, his hardened features softening in a way his men had never seen in fifteen years.
Lily looked up at him, her small belly letting out a quiet rumble. She nodded shyly. "Do you have bread?"
Nathan felt a sharp, painful ache in his chest. A daughter of the Moretti empire asking if there was bread.
"We have whatever you want, little one," Nathan murmured, standing up and taking her small, bandaged hand in his. He walked her into the formal dining room, where his head chef had already laid out a warm spread of roast chicken, handmade pasta, fresh fruit, and warm milk.
Lily sat on the edge of the large leather chair, eating hungrily while Nathan sat beside her, watching every move she made with intense, unyielding protection.
Marcus walked into the dining room, stepping up to Nathan's side, holding a leather folder.
"Boss," Marcus whispered in a low register. "We ran the background trace on Sarah's apartment building. The landlord who was demanding three months back rent... he wasn't a private owner."
Nathan took a slow sip of his water. "Who owns the building, Marcus?"
"A shell company registered in Panama," Marcus replied, opening the folder. "Co-signed by your uncle, Victor Moretti. He's been keeping Sarah in poverty intentionally for seven years, waiting for her to break so he could retrieve your mother's key."
Nathan set his glass down with an agonizingly slow click, his dark eyes narrowing into razor-sharp focus.
"Where is Victor right now?" Nathan asked softly.
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"He called an emergency meeting of the senior family captains at the downtown club for eight o'clock tonight," Marcus said. "He claims you're abusing family assets to protect a commoner."
Nathan stood up from the table, gently patting Lily's head. "Tell Marcus to prepare my car. It's time I reminded my uncle who runs Chicago."
