Chapter 4 - The Man Who Chose Me First
Two years earlier, I had met Dante Moretti at a charity auction.
At least, that was what I believed.
I had spilled champagne on his tuxedo.
He had looked at the stain, then at me, and said, “Most women introduce themselves before attacking me.”
I had laughed.
He hadn't.
Five minutes later, he had.
That became our beginning.
Except apparently it wasn't.
“Tell me.”
Dante's study was silent around us.
The ballroom had been evacuated. Bianca was in surgery under armed protection.
And I was finished accepting fragments.
Dante stood behind his desk.
“Luca knew you before I did.”
My throat tightened.
“How?”
“He saw you at Columbia.”
I had studied art history there.
“Did I meet him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He became interested in you.”
“Interested?”
“Obsessed might be more accurate.”
Cold moved through me.
Dante continued.
“He collected photographs. Your class schedule. Places you went.”
“That isn't interest, Dante.”
“I know.”
“He stalked me.”
“Yes.”
The word made me sick.
“Did you know?”
“Not until after his death.”
Dante opened a drawer and removed an old photograph.
Me.
Twenty-three years old.
Sitting outside a coffee shop.
Photographed from across the street.
On the back, Luca had written:
Someday.
I dropped it.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you had never met him. He was dead. I thought telling you would only make you afraid of a ghost.”
“But you arranged our meeting?”
Dante looked ashamed.
“I went to the auction because I knew you would be there.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see the woman my brother had been obsessed with.”
The truth hurt in a way I had not anticipated.
“So I was curiosity.”
“For about thirty seconds.”
Despite myself, I looked at him.
He stepped closer.
“Then you spilled champagne on me.”
“That was an accident.”
“I know.”
“And?”
“And you didn't know who I was. You insulted my tie. You laughed at me. You refused my offer to replace the dress I'd ruined when I dropped the glass back on you.”
I remembered.
His expression softened.
“I walked into that room because of Luca. I returned the next day because of you.”
I hated how badly I wanted to believe him.
Before I could answer, Marco entered.
“Boss.”
He placed a tablet on the desk.
“We traced the ballroom broadcast.”
“Where?”
Marco hesitated.
“Inside the house.”
Dante's expression hardened.
Someone on his staff had helped Luca.
Then Marco added, “There's something else.”
He turned the screen toward us.
Bank records.
Millions transferred from Moretti companies.
Every authorization carried Dante's credentials.
At the bottom was a final transfer scheduled for midnight.
Two hundred million dollars.
Recipient:
Marlowe Cultural Trust.
My name.
I stared.
“What is that?”
Dante looked at Marco.
“Freeze it.”
“We tried.”
“And?”
“It requires Elena's biometric authorization.”
My mouth went dry.
“I have never heard of this trust.”
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“It was established six years ago.”
Six years.
Before I met Dante.
Before Luca supposedly died.
I looked at Dante.
He appeared equally shocked.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Elena.”
Luca's voice.
Smooth.
Almost warm.
“It's strange finally hearing you.”
Dante reached for the phone.
I stepped away.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“No.”
Luca laughed.
“You don't know me.”
“I know enough.”
“You know what Dante allowed you to know.”
“And you stalked me before I knew either of you existed.”
Silence.
I had surprised him.
Good.
Then he said, “I built that trust for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I intended to leave everything.”
“For a stranger?”
“You were never a stranger to me.”
My skin crawled.
Dante's eyes were murderous.
Luca continued.
“My brother stole my life after he tried to kill me.”
Dante went still.
“You're lying.”
“Ask him why my car exploded.”
I looked at Dante.
He shook his head once.
Luca laughed softly.
“He'll tell you our father ordered it. What he won't tell you is that Dante knew.”
Dante took the phone.
“You want me, Luca? Come get me.”
“I already am.”
The call ended.
Then every alarm in the mansion activated.
Marco checked his phone.
“Fire in the west wing.”
Dante's eyes snapped toward me.
Too late.
Smoke began entering beneath the study door.
We moved toward the private exit.
Then the windows exploded inward.
Dante threw himself over me.
Glass rained across the floor.
Through the smoke outside, a black SUV appeared.
Armed men poured from it.
Dante drew his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
The study door burst open.
Marco fired.
I heard shouting.
Then someone grabbed me from behind.
A cloth covered my mouth.
I fought until my lungs burned.
The room blurred.
The last thing I saw was Dante turning toward me.
“Elena!”
Then darkness.
When I woke, I was lying on a velvet sofa.
A fireplace burned nearby.
A man stood with his back to me.
He turned.
The resemblance was undeniable.
Luca Moretti smiled.
“Hello, Elena.”
May you like
He poured two glasses of wine.
“I've been waiting six years to meet you.”
