Chapter 9 - THE MAN BEHIND THE MORETTI NAME
Alexander ordered everyone away from the windows.
“Claire, take Daniel upstairs.”
I held the boy's hand.
He looked frightened.
“Where's Daddy going?”
I knelt beside him.
“Your father is going to make sure we're safe.”
He nodded, but his fingers tightened around mine.
From the upstairs window, I watched the front door open.
A man stepped inside.
He was in his late sixties, tall and broad-shouldered, with silver hair and the same cold eyes as Alexander.
Vincent Moretti.
He looked around the living room.
Then he smiled.
“Alexander. You've grown into quite a man.”
Alexander didn't return the greeting.
“You're supposed to be dead.”
Vincent shrugged.
“People believe what they're told.”
“Why are you here?”
“To collect what belongs to me.”
Alexander glanced at Isabella.
“You threatened my wife.”
Vincent laughed.
“Your wife? You mean the woman you hid for five years?”
I felt my chest tighten.
Vincent continued.
“You were always too sentimental. Your father understood that. He knew you would destroy everything for the right woman.”
Alexander's voice dropped.
“Leave Claire out of this.”
“Then give me the trust.”
“No.”
Vincent's smile disappeared.
“You still don't understand. Your father was never the real head of this family. Neither was your grandfather.”
Alexander stared at him.
Vincent stepped closer.
“I built the organization. Your father took the credit. Then he tried to erase me when I refused to hand over the accounts.”
“Why did he fake your death?”
“Because he knew I had the original documents.”
Vincent reached inside his coat and produced a photograph.
It showed my father standing beside him.
“Your father-in-law was a clever man,” Vincent said. “He discovered the truth and hid the evidence inside the trust.”
I listened from upstairs.
My father had known everything.
And he had trusted Alexander to protect me.
Vincent continued.
“The company belongs to Claire. The properties, the accounts, the holding companies. All of it.”
Alexander's expression hardened.
“Then why threaten her?”
“Because she won't give me what I want.”
Vincent raised his eyes toward the staircase.
“Claire! Come down.”
I stayed where I was.
He smiled.
“I know you're listening. Bring me the key, and nobody has to get hurt.”
Alexander stepped in front of him.
“You're not touching her.”
Vincent sighed.
“I was hoping you would be more reasonable.”
He nodded toward the door.
Two armed men entered.
The next few seconds were chaos.
Alexander's men moved to intercept them.
Isabella pulled Daniel behind the sofa.
I ran toward the staircase with him.
A gunshot shattered the living-room window.
Daniel screamed.
I covered his head and pushed him behind a heavy cabinet.
Then another shot rang out.
When I looked down, Alexander was on one knee, holding his side.
Vincent stood over him.
“Still trying to play the hero?”
I rushed downstairs.
“Alexander!”
Vincent turned toward me.
“Perfect.”
He extended his hand.
“The key.”
I took the small wooden box from my bag.
“I don't have it.”
He smiled.
“Then we'll find it together.”
He reached for me.
Before he could touch me, Isabella stepped between us.
“Don't.”
Vincent looked at her.
“You should have stayed dead.”
She raised a small remote control.
“I have the original recording.”
Vincent froze.
“The one proving you ordered the murder of Claire's father,” Isabella said. “And the one proving you arranged the disappearance of your own brother.”
Vincent's face changed.
Alexander slowly stood, one hand pressed against his side.
“It's over.”
Vincent laughed.
“You think so?”
He looked directly at me.
“Ask Alexander why your father really died.”
I turned toward my husband.
Alexander wouldn't meet my eyes.
Vincent smiled.
“Your father wasn't killed because he discovered my secrets.”
He leaned closer.
“He was killed because Alexander gave him the location of the safe.”
My entire world stopped.
I stared at Alexander.
“Is that true?”
He said nothing.
And his silence was more devastating than any answer.
Vincent seized the opportunity.
He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door.
But before he could reach the car, a series of sirens erupted outside.
Federal agents surrounded the property.
Vincent released me.
Alexander collapsed against the wall.
As agents rushed inside, Isabella approached me.
She placed a small envelope in my hand.
“There's one more thing you need to know.”
I opened it.
Inside was a letter written by my father.
The final sentence read:
Claire, Alexander didn't betray me alone. The person who gave the final order was someone you have loved your entire life.
I looked at Isabella.
“Who?”
She glanced toward the ambulance.
Then she whispered:
May you like
“Your mother.”
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