Chapter 6 - The Moretti House
“Absolutely not.”
Adrian stood in the center of my apartment at seven the next morning.
I was eating toast.
“You're not going.”
I took another bite.
“Then why are you here?”
“To make sure you understand that.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“Good.”
“I’m still going.”
His eyes closed.
Marriage had taught me that Adrian Moretti did that when deciding whether homicide was socially appropriate.
“Claire.”
“Adrian.”
“Salvatore may have helped murder your father.”
“Attempted.”
“That correction does not make this better.”
“He knows where Vanessa is.”
“Maybe.”
“And possibly my father.”
“Which is exactly why I will go.”
I set down my toast.
“You spent our marriage making decisions for both of us. That marriage is over.”
Pain flickered across his face.
I continued.
“If we’re going to have a child together, learn this now. You don't own my choices.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
I blinked.
“That was suspiciously easy.”
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
“So am I.”
The old Moretti house stood on Long Island Sound, a stone mansion Lorenzo had bought decades earlier.
I had spent Christmases there.
Birthdays.
Our engagement dinner.
Salvatore welcomed us at the entrance like nothing had changed.
He was seventy, silver-haired, impeccably dressed.
He kissed my cheek.
“Claire. You look beautiful.”
Adrian moved between us.
“Don't touch her.”
Salvatore sighed.
“Still dramatic.”
“You knew she was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Come inside.”
We entered Lorenzo’s old library.
A fire burned.
Tea waited.
The domestic normality was obscene.
Salvatore sat.
“I suppose Daniel finally gave you the recordings.”
My blood chilled.
“You know he’s alive.”
“I know many things.”
“Where is he?”
“Safe.”
“From you?”
His smile faded.
“Especially from me.”
Adrian placed both hands on the desk.
“Where is Vanessa?”
Salvatore looked almost sad.
“With her father.”
“Victor.”
“Yes.”
“You've been working with him.”
“For years.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Why?”
“Because your father was weak.”
“My father built everything you have.”
“Your father wanted legitimacy. Respectability. Magazine covers. Victor and I understood power.”
“And Daniel Bennett discovered what you were doing.”
Salvatore looked at me.
“Your father was inconveniently principled.”
I wanted to cross the room and strike him.
Instead, I asked, “Why is he alive?”
That surprised him.
Good.
“If Victor wanted him dead, why let him live?”
Salvatore leaned back.
“Because Victor never found him.”
“Then how do you know he’s safe?”
Silence.
There.
A contradiction.
Adrian heard it too.
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed.
I continued.
“You don't know where my father is.”
“No.”
“And Vanessa does.”
“Yes.”
“So Victor took Vanessa because he needs her to find him.”
Salvatore smiled.
“Daniel always said you were clever.”
“Where is she?”
“Victor won't hurt his daughter.”
I remembered the blood in the warehouse.
“I don't believe that.”
Salvatore looked away.
That was answer enough.
Adrian’s phone vibrated.
Marco.
He glanced at it.
One message.
FOUND HER.
Adrian kept his expression neutral.
I followed his lead.
Salvatore continued speaking.
“Victor wants the original files.”
“He’ll never get them,” I said.
“He will if he has something you value.”
“My father?”
“Perhaps.”
A scream came from upstairs.
Everything stopped.
Adrian reached inside his coat.
Salvatore stood.
“What did you do?”
Another scream.
Female.
Weak.
“Vanessa,” I whispered.
Adrian moved first.
Two guards appeared in the hallway.
Marco came through the side entrance at exactly the same moment with three men.
Chaos exploded.
I dropped behind the stone banister.
Adrian disarmed the first guard before I fully understood what happened.
Marco slammed the second into the wall.
No gunfire.
Thank God.
Adrian ran upstairs.
I followed despite everyone yelling at me not to.
We found Vanessa in a bedroom.
Alive.
Barely conscious.
Her wrist was cuffed to the bed.
A man stood beside the window.
Victor Hale.
I recognized him from the photograph.
Older.
Thinner.
Same eyes as Vanessa.
He held a gun.
Adrian stopped.
Victor pointed it at me.
“Well,” he said. “Daniel Bennett’s little girl.”
Adrian shifted in front of me.
Victor smiled.
“Still protecting her. That worked beautifully last time.”
“Put it down.”
“Where are the files?”
“Safe.”
Victor laughed.
“Nothing is safe.”
Vanessa opened her eyes.
“Dad…”
His gun wavered.
That tiny movement was enough.
Adrian lunged.
The weapon hit the floor.
Marco rushed in.
Victor crashed against the window.
For several seconds, the room became fists, broken furniture, shouting.
Then Victor twisted free.
He ran through the adjoining balcony door.
Marco followed.
Adrian started after him.
Then Vanessa whispered, “Claire.”
I knelt beside her.
Her fingers closed around mine.
“Your father.”
“Where?”
She struggled to breathe.
“Connecticut.”
My heart pounded.
“Where in Connecticut?”
She whispered an address.
I recognized the town.
Mystic.
Then her eyes moved to Adrian.
“There’s something you don't know.”
“What?”
“About the divorce.”
Adrian went still.
Vanessa looked at me.
“He didn’t decide to leave you.”
I frowned.
“I was there.”
“No.”
Her voice weakened.
“Victor gave him forty-eight hours.”
Adrian's face changed.
Vanessa continued.
“He said divorce Claire publicly… or he would kill your baby.”
Silence.
My entire body went cold.
“What baby?”
Vanessa stared at Adrian.
“The one Victor thought Claire was already carrying.”
I turned slowly.
Adrian looked devastated.
“He knew before I did?” I whispered.
“No,” Adrian said. “He was bluffing.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
She reached toward the bedside table.
“There was a fertility clinic report.”
My heart stopped.
I had never visited a fertility clinic.
May you like
Vanessa looked at me.
“Claire, someone knew you were pregnant before either of you did.”
