Chapter 6 - The Man Behind the Empire
Adrian was waiting when Amelia arrived at his office.
She had expected a fortress of polished stone and armed guards. Instead, the upper floors of Moretti Holdings resembled an ordinary corporate headquarters: glass walls, quiet receptionists, conference rooms, and employees carrying coffee between meetings.
That normality unsettled her more than an obvious display of power would have.
Adrian stood beside a wall of windows, looking down at the river.
“You shouldn't have come alone,” he said.
“You shouldn't have investigated my family without telling me.”
He turned.
“Your father was connected to a financial investigation that could destroy people who are still alive and dangerous.”
“You knew who he was?”
“I knew his name. I didn't know he was your father until my people connected the records.”
“Did you know he might have been murdered?”
Adrian didn't answer quickly enough.
Amelia's heart sank.
“You suspected.”
“I suspected that his death was more complicated than the official report suggested.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
“I had no proof.”
“You could have told me there were questions.”
He walked toward his desk, then stopped when he realized she was watching him.
“My father built an organization that controlled much of Chicago's criminal underworld. He believed loyalty was more valuable than law. My uncle believed money could buy either. Vincent believes fear is the only thing that lasts.”
“And you?”
Adrian looked toward the window.
“I inherited the consequences.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It's an excuse.”
The admission surprised her.
He explained that after his father's death, he had spent years trying to prevent the family business from collapsing into a bloody internal war. He had pushed legitimate investments, cut off certain illegal operations, and driven several violent men out of the organization.
But he had kept other parts alive.
Because he believed he could control them.
Amelia listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she asked, “How many people have been hurt because you thought you could control everything?”
His expression closed.
“More than I can repair.”
For the first time, she saw not an untouchable crime boss but a man who had mistaken control for redemption.
“I can't forgive you for things I don't know,” she said. “But I won't pretend your honesty changes what you've done.”
“I wouldn't ask you to.”
“Good.”
He slid a folder across the desk.
Inside were copies of financial transfers, company registrations, and several photographs of Vincent meeting with men Amelia had never seen before.
One photograph showed Vincent entering the building where her father had worked.
The date was three days before Daniel's fatal accident.
Amelia gripped the paper.
“Why wasn't this in the police report?”
“Because the original investigation was compromised. We're trying to establish who altered the evidence.”
“Who is we?”
“My attorney and a federal investigator who has been examining Vincent's operations.”
“You're cooperating with federal investigators?”
“On certain matters.”
“Convenient.”
“Necessary.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“Do you actually want to find out what happened to my father, or do you want to find evidence you can use against your cousin?”
Adrian's face became very still.
“Both motives can exist at the same time.”
“At least you're honest about that.”
She closed the folder.
“I'll help you find the records. But I have conditions.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You don't send anyone to my shop without my permission. You don't threaten anyone in my name. You don't buy my building, pay my debts, or make decisions about my life.”
“Agreed.”
“And if you discover something about my father, you tell me immediately.”
“Agreed.”
She studied him suspiciously.
“That was too easy.”
“I was expecting worse.”
“I'm sure I can think of something.”
This time, he did smile.
It was brief and unexpectedly boyish, transforming his face before he could hide it.
Amelia looked away first.
They spent the next three hours examining the records. One transfer appeared repeatedly: money routed through a charitable foundation that had funded neighborhood redevelopment projects.
The same foundation had financed Northbridge Urban Holdings.
And one of its largest recent expenditures was listed as a payment to a private storage facility on the outskirts of Chicago.
Adrian picked up his phone.
“Get me the lease records for that facility.”
His attorney responded within minutes.
The storage unit had been rented under Daniel Brooks's name.
The lease had remained active for nineteen years.
Amelia stared at the screen.
“My father hid something there.”
Adrian nodded.
Then his security chief called.
His voice was urgent.
“Boss, don't go to the storage facility.”
“Why?”
“Because someone just emptied the unit.”
A pause.
“And they left something behind.”
May you like
“What?”
“A body.”
