Chapter 5 - THE SECRET BENEATH THE MORETTI NAME
Vincent had not thought about Claire's father in years.
He remembered Thomas Bennett as a quiet man with tired eyes who had attended their wedding wearing a dark suit and an expression that suggested he wasn't entirely convinced about his daughter's choice.
Thomas had died before Vincent could decide whether he liked him.
The official report said the accident occurred on a rainy stretch of highway outside Chicago. His car had crossed the center line and struck a barrier. He died before the ambulance arrived.
Claire had been devastated.
Vincent had paid for the funeral, arranged private security, and told her she would never have to worry about money again.
He had considered that sufficient.
Now he wondered whether his generosity had been a way to avoid asking what she needed from him.
He called his grandfather.
Anthony Moretti answered on the second ring.
"Where have you been? Your wife has apparently caused a scandal, and now you're asking about a ring."
"Did you know Thomas Bennett?"
The silence lasted too long.
"Why?"
"Claire told me to ask what happened the night her father died."
Anthony exhaled sharply.
"She's been talking to people she shouldn't trust."
"That's not an answer."
"Vincent, you're tired. You're upset. Come to the house tomorrow, and we'll discuss this privately."
"No. We're discussing it now."
"Your grandfather's birthday party was ruined, your wife is in the hospital, and Sophia has been accused of stealing an heirloom. You have more important things to worry about."
Vincent stared at the phone.
"How did you know Sophia was accused of stealing the ring?"
Anthony said nothing.
"Who told you?"
"Everyone is talking."
"The hospital staff hasn't said anything publicly."
"Don't interrogate me like one of your men."
Vincent's voice lowered.
"Then stop answering like a man who has something to hide."
Anthony ended the call.
Vincent remained still.
His grandfather had taught him that loyalty was the foundation of power. He had taught him to protect the family name, never reveal weakness, and never allow outsiders to dictate the terms of a Moretti decision.
But Anthony had also taught him that a man who could not distinguish loyalty from obedience would eventually lose everything.
Vincent wondered whether the lesson had been a confession.
Marco arrived with a second report.
"The company receiving the money has been dissolved on paper, but we found a related account. It was used to pay a private investigator."
"Investigating whom?"
"Thomas Bennett."
Vincent looked at the report.
The investigator had been hired eight months before Thomas's death.
"Who paid him?"
"The first payment came from the shell company. The original funding came from an account controlled by your grandfather's business office."
Vincent felt the room tilt.
"Keep digging."
Marco hesitated.
"Boss, there's a reason I came to you personally."
He placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Thomas Bennett standing outside a warehouse with a younger Anthony Moretti.
Between them was a third man.
Vincent recognized him immediately.
His father, Richard Moretti, who had died when Vincent was twenty-two.
"What is this?"
"It was found in an archived police file. Thomas Bennett was investigating a financial arrangement involving several companies linked to your family's shipping business."
"Why?"
"According to the file, he believed money was being diverted from a legitimate logistics company. He was preparing to testify."
Vincent looked at the photograph again.
"Was he killed because of it?"
"We don't know."
"Then find out."
Marco left.
Vincent returned to Claire's room that evening, but she was sleeping. He stood beside her bed, studying the face of the woman he had failed to understand.
He wanted to tell her about the photograph.
He wanted to promise that he would uncover everything.
But he knew how easily promises had become another weapon in his marriage. He had promised to change before, usually when Claire had become quiet enough to frighten him.
He would not ask her to trust words again.
Instead, he called his head of security.
"Starting now, no one enters my wife's room without medical authorization. No exceptions."
"Understood."
"That includes Sophia. It includes my grandfather. It includes me if the doctors say she needs rest."
"Yes, boss."
He ended the call and sat beside Claire until morning.
At 7:40 a.m., Daniel Hayes arrived with Emily Bennett.
Emily was thirty-two, with Claire's dark eyes and the same determined set to her jaw. She wore a navy coat and carried a small overnight bag.
When Vincent stood to greet her, she didn't offer her hand.
"You're Vincent."
"Yes."
"I've wanted to meet you for a long time."
He waited.
"Under better circumstances, perhaps."
Emily looked through the glass at Claire.
"How is she?"
"Still critical, but stable."
"How's the baby?"
"In intensive care."
She closed her eyes briefly.
Then she turned toward him.
"Claire told me about Sophia."
Vincent felt his stomach tighten.
"What did she tell you?"
"Enough to know that my sister has spent five years making excuses for a man who didn't deserve them."
He absorbed the words without defending himself.
Emily seemed surprised.
"You're not going to tell me I don't understand?"
"No."
"Or that Sophia is just a friend?"
"No."
"Good. Because I'm not interested in helping you feel better."
She opened her bag and removed a small envelope.
"Claire sent me this two weeks ago. She said I should only open it if she ever had to leave you suddenly."
Vincent stared at the envelope.
"What's inside?"
Emily's fingers tightened around it.
"I haven't read it."
"Why not?"
"Because I was hoping I'd never have to."
She handed it to him.
On the front, Claire had written five words.
For Emily, if Vincent fails us.
Vincent could barely breathe.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Claire holding a newborn baby.
The child looked several months old.
On the back, in Claire's handwriting, were six words that made no sense.
This is the child he never knew.
Vincent looked at Emily.
"Who is this baby?"
May you like
Her face had gone pale.
"I was hoping you could tell me."
