Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Summons
The damp chill of the North Side morning did little to ease Emma’s exhaustion. After the chaotic events at the gala, she had stayed until three in the morning helping the banquet crew clean the hall, enduring dirty looks from her supervisor, Carl. Carl had made it abundantly clear that causing a scene in front of billionaires, even if it saved the CEO’s mother, was bad for business.
Now, seated at the rickety kitchen table of her small third-floor walk-up, Emma stared at a pile of past-due medical bills. Her younger brother, Leo, sat across from her eating plain toast, his pale complexion a reminder of the chronic asthma treatments they could barely afford.
“Did something happen last night, Em?” Leo asked, coughing slightly. “You haven’t touched your coffee.”
“Just a crazy night at work, buddy,” Emma said, forcing a reassuring smile. “Nothing for you to worry about. Eat your breakfast.”
A sharp, authoritative knock at the door shattered the quiet morning.
Emma frowned. Their landlord usually shouted from the hallway rather than knocking politely. She walked to the door, slid the safety chain, and cracked it open.
Standing in the dimly lit, peeling hallway was a tall man in a dark charcoal suit, an earpiece curling behind his ear. Behind him on the street below, Emma could see the polished silhouette of a black Maybach gleaming under the dreary Chicago drizzle.
“Miss Emma Carter?” the man asked in a crisp, respectful tone.
“Yes... Who are you?”
“My name is Marcus. I am the head of personal security for the Moretti family,” he said, extending a sealed ivory envelope embossed with an intricate crest. “Mrs. Isabella Moretti has requested your presence at the estate this morning. Mr. Vincent Moretti has provided transport.”
Emma pulled back, clutching her sweater tightly. “Look, I don’t want any money or a reward. I just did what anyone with a conscience would have done. You can tell Mr. Moretti that I’m fine.”
Marcus didn't flinch, but his eyes softened slightly. “With respect, Miss Carter, Mrs. Moretti is unwell. Last night took a heavy physical toll on her. She specifically asked to see the girl who defended her before her doctors restrict visitors. And... Mr. Moretti does not take no for an answer.”
Leo peered around the hallway door, his eyes wide at the sight of the suited man. Emma looked at her brother, then at the unpaid utility notices scattered on the counter. If she refused, what would stop people like Victoria Sterling from tracking her down without Moretti’s shield?
“Give me five minutes,” Emma said reluctantly. “I need to get dressed.”
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Ten minutes later, the luxury vehicle glided away from the curb, leaving the gray neighborhood behind and speeding toward the sprawling, iron-gated bluffs of Lake Forest where Chicago’s real masters lived.
***
