Chapter 3 - The Lion’s Den
For three days, the East Wing of the Moretti estate became Norah’s peaceful sanctuary.
Her suite was larger than her entire previous apartment, complete with a king-sized bed, a private nursery, a roaring fireplace, and massive windows overlooking the frozen lake. Every morning, Mrs. Vane brought up fresh fruit, pastries, and warm meals, while two quiet maids delivered clean baby clothes and soft toys for Leo.
For the first time in eight months, Norah didn't have to worry about whether the electric bill would be paid or if she had enough money for formula.
Yet, the quiet luxury felt like a gilded cage.
On the fourth evening, after putting Leo down for his night nap, Norah couldn't take the confinement any longer. She put on a simple navy sweater and soft leggings—provided by Mrs. Vane—and stepped quietly into the grand hallway.
The house was dark and silent, lit only by soft wall sconces.
As she passed the library on the ground floor, she noticed the heavy double doors were slightly open, casting a long bar of golden light across the carpet.
Inside, low, aggressive voices were speaking in fast, dangerous tones.
"...Sal Petrovic is pushing the boundary at the North River docks," Dante’s voice grunted from inside. "He knows you took Tommy's wife, boss. He thinks you're using her to claim Tommy's debt for yourself."
Norah froze near the crack of the door, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Let Sal think what he wants," Gabriel’s gravelly voice replied calmly. "Sal doesn't have the leverage or the firepower to cross the river. What about the Capos?"
"Frankie 'The Blade' is asking questions," a second voice said. "He says the Syndicate rules state that if a man defaults on a two-hundred-thousand-dollar debt, his assets are liquidated. Frankie thinks... he thinks the woman should be sold off to clear the books."
Norah’s blood turned to ice. She pressed her back against the cool wall, her hands trembling violently.
Inside the library, a heavy glass slammed onto a wooden desk with a deafening thud.
"If Frankie mentions Norah Bennett’s name again in my presence," Gabriel’s voice dropped into a register so dark, so lethal, it made the hairs on Norah’s arms stand up, "I will personally rip his tongue out through his throat. Do I make myself clear?"
Silence fell over the library.
"Clear, boss," Dante whispered.
"Norah Bennett is under my personal protection," Gabriel continued, his voice steady as iron. "Her husband's debt is between Thomas and me. She is not an asset. She is not a bargain. She is off-limits to everyone in Chicago. Tell Frankie if he steps one foot onto this property, he leaves in a body bag."
Norah took a slow, terrified step backward, her breath catching in her throat.
Before she could slip away into the shadows, her shoe caught the edge of a heavy bronze floor lamp, causing it to wobble and clatter softly against the doorframe.
The library doors instantly swung wide open.
Dante stood in the doorway, his hand already gripping the handle of a suppressed pistol tucked under his arm. When he saw Norah standing there, his eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he slowly released his grip.
Gabriel stepped out from behind his massive walnut desk, his dark coat draped over his chair, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the thick cords of his neck.
"Norah," Gabriel said softly, his eyes scanning her frightened face.
"I... I'm sorry," she stammered, taking another step back. "I was just... I couldn't sleep. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
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Gabriel looked at Dante and his lieutenant. "Leave us."
The two men bowed their heads quickly and hurried down the hallway, leaving Norah alone with the Don of Chicago.
