Chapter 4 - THE QUEEN’S INVITATION
Isabella Moretti’s estate was a sprawling expanse of gardens and glass, tucked away behind iron gates that seemed to be forged in the fires of another century. She greeted me in a sunroom filled with orchids—white, delicate, and fiercely beautiful.
She looked much better than the night at the Gilded Lily. Her skin had color, and her eyes held a sharp, dangerous intelligence. She sat in a mahogany wheelchair, her hands resting on a cane with a silver handle shaped like a bird of prey.
"Clara," she said. Her voice was no longer a rasp, but a crisp, commanding instrument. "Thank you for coming."
"I had little choice," I said.
She laughed—a sudden, sharp sound. "Lorenzo has no subtlety. He thinks the world is a chessboard. He forgets that pieces have feelings."
She motioned for me to sit. "He thinks you are a variable. I think you are a survivor."
"I'm just a student who had to drop out," I said.
"We are all students of our own survival," Isabella said. She leaned forward. "Lorenzo’s father was a man of blood and iron. Lorenzo is a man of logic and numbers. But they both suffer from the same delusion: they think they can control the wind."
She reached out and touched my hand. Her fingers were cold. "You are the only person who has ever touched my life without wanting something from me. That makes you either a saint or the most dangerous person I’ve ever met."
"I'm neither," I said.
"We shall see," she said. "Lorenzo is planning to expand into the shipping ports in the north. He believes he can force the unions to sign. He is wrong. There is a man there—a man named Elias Thorne—who is more ruthless than my son. Lorenzo is going to walk into a trap."
I froze. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you have eyes that see," she said. "And because I do not want my son to die because of his own ego. I want you to be my eyes. I want you to observe him. When you see him slipping, you tell me."
I stared at her. "I'm not a spy."
"You are a debt-holder," she reminded me, her voice hardening. "You are indebted to me for your life, and to Lorenzo for your mother’s. Do you really think you have the luxury of choice?"
The reality of my position hit me. I was being recruited. I was being handed a role in the middle of a mafia war. My stomach twisted. "If I do this, what happens to my mother?"
"She remains safe," Isabella promised. "She stays in the best care, and you... you get to live a life far beyond the walls of the Gilded Lily."
I realized that I was standing at the edge of an abyss. I could walk away, and Lorenzo would hunt me down. Or I could jump, and see if I could learn to fly.
"Fine," I said. "But I do it on my own terms. I don't help you hurt people. I only protect those who are defenseless."
Isabella smiled. It was the smile of a predator watching a cub learn to hunt. "That will be more than enough."
I left the estate feeling like I had traded my soul for a glimpse of the machinery behind the world. As I drove home, I saw the black SUV behind me again. It wasn't following me; it was escorting me.
I pulled into my apartment complex and saw a note on my door. It was from Lorenzo.
May you like
Pack a bag. You’re coming with me to the north.
The game had begun.
