Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of Shadows
The Marchetti estate was not a house; it was a fortress carved into the cliffside overlooking the Chesapeake Bay. High stone walls, thermal security cameras, and armed men every fifty yards made it clear that Luca Marchetti lived in a state of permanent siege.
The black SUV pulled into the underground garage. The moment the doors unlocked, Caesar refused to let Luca help Ruby out. The massive dog squeezed himself between her and the car door, guiding her out with his shoulder, acting as a physical shield.
"He's completely compromised," Marco, Luca’s chief lieutenant, muttered as he met them in the garage. Marco was a battle-hardened man in his late fifties with a long scar bisecting his left eyebrow. He looked at Ruby with deep suspicion. "Luca, who is this woman? And why is your dog acting like she owns him?"
"She's the vet who saved his life," Luca replied, shedding his blood-stained jacket and handing it to a waiting guard. "And she's under my personal protection. Prepare the east wing suites for her."
"East wing?" Marco blinked in surprise. "Luca, that’s adjacent to your quarters. We don't know who she is. What if she was planted by Valenti?"
Ruby, who was exhausted, soaked, and furious, snapped. She turned on Marco, pointing a finger at his nose. "Listen to me, scarface. I was sitting in my clinic minding my own business, eating a lukewarm bagel, when this brute crashed through my door! I don't care about your gang wars, I don't care about your east wing, and if you think I want to be in this concrete prison, you are out of your mind! So back off before I let this dog use your leg as a chew toy!"
Marco’s mouth dropped open. No one spoke to him like that. No one spoke to anyone in this house like that.
Caesar punctuated Ruby’s sentence with a sharp, echoing bark that rattled the concrete garage.
Luca let out a sound—a strange, deep rumble that Marco hadn't heard in years. It was a laugh. Short, quiet, but unmistakable.
"She stays in the east wing, Marco," Luca said, a dark amusement glinting in his eyes. "And assign a medical team to bring supplies up to her room. She needs to properly re-stitch Caesar's side."
Twenty minutes later, Ruby found herself in a bedroom larger than her entire apartment. Rich hardwood floors, plush velvet rugs, and a floor-to-ceiling window looking out over the stormy ocean. It was luxurious, but to Ruby, it felt suffocating.
She sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, her head in her hands. Caesar sat right beside her, resting his giant chin on her knee.
"What am I doing here?" she murmured to the dog. "I'm a thirty-two-year-old woman with a cat named Barnaby and a failing animal rescue. I don't belong in a mobster's castle."
Caesar made a soft, rumbling noise in his throat, nudging her hand with his wet nose until she began lazily scratching behind his ears.
There was a knock at the door. Luca stepped inside, carrying a tray with a pot of steaming tea, two cups, and a plate of warm pastries. He had changed into a soft cashmere sweater and dark trousers, looking less like a lethal Don and more like a striking aristocrat.
"I thought you might be cold," he said, placing the tray on the bedside table.
Ruby looked at the tea, then at him. "You make a habit of serving tea to your hostages?"
"You aren't a hostage, Ruby," Luca said, sitting in the armchair across from the bed. He watched how Caesar leaned into her side, completely relaxed in her presence. "You are my guest. Until I eliminate the threat from Don Valenti, this is the safest place on the East Coast for you."
"My clinic..."
"My men are already cleaning it," Luca assured her smoothly. "The bodies are gone. The damage will be repaired by tomorrow afternoon. I’ve also had your cat brought here. Barnaby is currently sleeping in the kitchen staff's quarters, being fed fresh salmon."
Ruby stared at him, caught between appreciation and outrage. "You had your mobsters kidnap my cat?"
"I had my men relocate your cat," Luca corrected gently. "I am thorough, Miss Hart."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his intense gaze pinning her in place. "Now, tell me the truth. How did you make Caesar obey you in under ten seconds? He was trained by top military handlers in Italy. He only answers to commands in Sicilian. You didn't speak a word of Italian."
Ruby looked down at the massive dog resting on her feet. "I didn't command him, Mr. Marchetti. I welcomed him. There's a difference. You command things you want to control. You welcome things you want to heal."
May you like
Luca was silent for a long moment, the firelight from the hearth casting deep shadows across his sharp features. "Control is the only reason I am still alive," he said softly.
"Then you must be very lonely," Ruby replied, without a trace of hesitation.
