Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD
Dominic had spent his life believing loyalty was the foundation of power.
Now he understood how easily powerful men could turn loyalty into a weapon.
He ordered his team to search the property, but there was no sign of Marco, Vanessa, Salvatore, or Victor.
Then a phone rang beneath a pile of broken glass.
It was Marco's.
Dominic answered.
“Marco?”
A rough breath came through the speaker.
“Boss… don't come after me.”
“Where are you?”
“They took me. I'm alive, but I don't know for how long.”
A muffled voice spoke in the background.
Then Marco whispered, “Your father isn't working alone. Check the charity foundation.”
The call ended.
Dominic immediately thought of Isabella.
Her foundation had been created to provide housing, legal assistance, and medical care for women with nowhere else to turn. She had spent months building it quietly, using money she had inherited independently of the Moretti business.
If Victor wanted to destroy her legacy, the foundation would be the obvious target.
Dominic contacted the foundation's director, Margaret Ellis.
She answered on the third ring.
“Dominic? Is something wrong?”
“I need the original financial records. Everything Isabella prepared before her death.”
Margaret went silent.
“Your wife told me to release them only if you came personally.”
“I'm coming.”
“Then come alone. Someone has been asking questions about the files.”
When Dominic arrived, Margaret led him into a small office behind the foundation's main reception area. Unlike the Moretti mansion, the room was warm and crowded with photographs of children, families, and volunteers.
Isabella smiled from a framed photograph above the desk.
Dominic stopped in front of it.
“She loved this place,” Margaret said quietly.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question was gentle, but it hurt.
Margaret opened a locked cabinet and removed three folders.
“Your wife discovered that money allocated to the foundation had been diverted through shell companies. At first, she thought it was a bookkeeping error. Then she found the same company listed in your family's private accounts.”
“Who controlled it?”
“Victor Moretti.”
Dominic opened the first folder.
The records showed millions of dollars moving through fake charities, offshore accounts, and companies with no employees.
A signature appeared repeatedly.
Salvatore Moretti.
Beside it was the name of a company registered under Vanessa Sterling's initials.
Dominic felt sick.
“She knew?”
“Your wife believed Vanessa was involved. But she couldn't prove how much Vanessa understood.”
Margaret placed another envelope on the desk.
“Isabella left this for you.”
Inside was a photograph of Dominic and Isabella on their wedding day. On the back, Isabella had written:
If you ever find yourself choosing between the family name and the truth, choose the truth. The family can be rebuilt.
Dominic swallowed hard.
He had spent eighteen months protecting the family name.
Meanwhile, the people who had destroyed his wife were using that name to hide.
Margaret handed him a final document.
It was a copy of a trust amendment dated two days before Isabella's death.
The amendment would have transferred a portion of the Moretti fortune into her foundation, with Dominic serving as trustee.
But the transfer had been blocked by an emergency court order.
The petitioner was Victor Moretti.
The judge's signature looked authentic.
The date did not.
The judge had retired months earlier.
“This is forgery,” Dominic said.
Margaret nodded.
“Isabella knew. She was preparing to report it.”
A sound came from the corridor.
Dominic reached for his phone.
A young employee rushed into the office.
“Mr. Moretti, someone is outside. He says he has a message from your father.”
The employee handed Dominic a small black envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Emily sleeping in her hospital bed.
Someone had circled her pregnant stomach in red ink.
Beneath it, a message had been typed.
Bring the original medical records to the old chapel by midnight, or the maid and her child will pay for your wife's unfinished business.
Dominic looked at the clock.
May you like
It was 10:43 p.m.
And somewhere in the city, a man he had buried was waiting for him.
