Chapter 5 - The Cousin Who Smiled Too MuchDamian Moretti arrived at the Calder Hotel wearing a navy suit and the expression of a man mildly inconvenienced by someone else’s disaster.
Angry, yes.
Cold, often.
Protective almost constantly.
But frightened?
Never.
Not until he stood in our daughter’s unfinished nursery staring at the pink crib someone had carried into our locked home.
It sat beneath the window like something from a nightmare.
Brand-new.
Perfect.
Except for the red letters painted across its side.
SHE WILL NEVER USE IT.
Detective Monroe ordered everyone out while forensic technicians searched the room.
I stayed in the hallway, one hand pressed beneath my belly.
Sofia moved.
A small kick.
I whispered, “I know.”
Luca heard.
He looked down at my stomach.
Then crouched in front of me.
He put both hands carefully around my waist and rested his forehead against the curve of my belly.
For several seconds, nobody in the hallway spoke.
“You’re safe,” he whispered.
I couldn’t tell whether he was speaking to Sofia or himself.
I ran my fingers through his hair.
“We are.”
His jaw tightened.
“I should have stopped this.”
“You didn’t cause it.”
“I brought you into my world.”
I lifted his face.
“This came from mine.”
“Raymond isn’t your responsibility.”
“Neither is your family history.”
His eyes searched mine.
That had always been the unspoken bargain between us.
We were not responsible for what other people had done before we met.
Luca’s surname had frightened people long before he was born.
Raymond had hurt me long before Luca knew my name.
Our marriage had been built on refusing to inherit other people’s sins.
But fear has a way of making old promises feel fragile.
The forensic team found one partial fingerprint.
Not Raymond’s.
Not Melissa’s.
Unknown.
Security footage had been disabled for six minutes.
Professionally.
“That’s not Cross,” Luca said.
Monroe looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“Raymond is obsessive. Cruel. Manipulative. But disabling a Moretti security network remotely?”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
“You think someone trained is helping him?”
“I know someone is.”
That opened a different door.
Luca spent the next morning reviewing everyone who had ever worked security for his family.
Men dismissed.
Men arrested.
Men humiliated.
Men who might enjoy watching Luca Moretti fail to protect his own home.
One name kept returning.
Anton Vescari.
Former security chief.
Luca had fired him eighteen months earlier after discovering he had been selling information about shipment schedules to competitors.
Anton avoided prosecution by disappearing before charges were filed.
No one had seen him since.
Until a traffic camera placed a vehicle registered to Anton’s cousin near my mother’s neighborhood the previous night.
Monroe leaned back in her chair.
“So Cross has a professional.”
Luca’s face darkened.
“Worse.”
“How?”
“Anton knows how my security works.”
That afternoon, Raymond failed to report to his electronic monitoring check.
Police issued a warrant.
Melissa remained missing.
Anton became a person of interest.
Three people.
Three motives.
One target.
Me.
Luca wanted us moved to a hotel under federal-level security.
I agreed this time.
Not because Raymond had won.
Because Sofia mattered more than my pride.
We checked into the top floor of the Calder Hotel under false names.
Our room overlooked Lake Michigan.
Six security officers rotated shifts.
The elevator required coded access.
Windows were reinforced.
For two days, nothing happened.
Then on the third morning, I woke to find Luca missing from bed.
He stood on the balcony behind locked glass doors.
Phone against his ear.
I slid the door open.
Cold wind rushed inside.
“Who are you talking to?”
He turned.
Ended the call.
“Nobody.”
“That was suspiciously fast for nobody.”
“Go inside. It’s cold.”
“Luca.”
He sighed.
“My uncle.”
I stiffened.
“Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
I had met Vittorio Moretti only once.
He lived outside Naples now.
Sixty-eight.
Elegant.
Polite.
And, according to Luca, responsible for enough suffering to fill several lifetimes.
“Why?”
“Anton used to work for him.”
That made sense.
“What did he say?”
“That Anton never does anything for free.”
“So Raymond is paying him.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe that.”
Luca leaned against the railing.
“Raymond has money. Not enough to buy Anton.”
“Then who is paying?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Before I could answer, Luca’s phone rang again.
Detective Monroe.
She had found Melissa.
Alive.
Police discovered her car abandoned behind a motel near Milwaukee.
Melissa herself had walked into an emergency room with a fractured wrist and bruises across her face.
Her first words to police:
Raymond is going to kill Norah Moretti.
We met Melissa in a guarded hospital room that afternoon.
Luca didn’t want me there.
I insisted.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Without makeup and with one eye swollen, she seemed frighteningly young.
She began crying when she saw me.
“I’m sorry.”
I remained near the door.
“Why did you help him?”
“He said you ruined his life.”
Of course he did.
“He said you lied about him. That you took money. That you cheated.”
“None of that happened.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Her mouth trembled.
“Because eventually he started doing the same things to me.”
Silence.
Luca’s hands curled into fists.
Melissa continued.
“At first he was sweet. He told me you were dangerous. That you were married to some criminal who had threatened him.”
She looked at Luca.
“He said he was trying to protect you.”
I nearly laughed from disbelief.
“He convinced you stealing my medical records protected me?”
“He said he needed proof you were pregnant because Moretti was using you.”
My stomach twisted.
“And when did Anton appear?”
Melissa’s eyes changed.
Fear.
“After Raymond got arrested.”
Luca stepped forward.
“So Cross knew Anton before Bellini?”
“No.”
“Then who introduced them?”
She shook her head.
“I never saw him.”
“Who?”
“The man Raymond called Mr. Gray.”
Monroe leaned closer.
“Real name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Description?”
“He never met us in person. Only phone calls.”
“What did he want?”
Melissa swallowed.
“He wanted Raymond angry.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“He kept telling Raymond that Mr. Moretti had stolen everything from him. That if he wanted you back, he had to stop being weak.”
Luca and I exchanged a look.
Someone had weaponized Raymond.
This wasn’t only obsession.
It was manipulation layered on top of obsession.
“What did Mr. Gray pay for?” Luca asked.
“Anton. Cars. Phones. Hotel rooms.”
“Why?”
Melissa began crying harder.
“Because this was never about Norah.”
My skin went cold.
“What?”
She looked directly at Luca.
“It was about you.”
Silence filled the hospital room.
Luca’s face became stone.
“Explain.”
“Raymond was supposed to keep you distracted.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe—”
“Luca.”
My voice stopped him.
Melissa looked genuinely terrified.
She reached beneath the blanket.
Monroe immediately moved.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Melissa slowly produced a folded piece of paper.
“I stole this from Raymond before I ran.”
Monroe opened it.
A list of addresses.
Moretti Construction headquarters.
A port warehouse.
The foundation.
Luca’s uncle’s former residence.
And one date circled three times.
August 18.
Four days away.
Beside it were two words.
BOARD VOTE.
Luca took the paper.
His expression changed.
I knew that meeting.
Moretti Holdings was voting on a merger worth almost two billion dollars.
If Luca missed it, temporary control could shift to another shareholder.
“Who benefits?” I asked.
Luca didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
There was only one member of the Moretti board who had spent years trying to remove him.
His cousin.
Damian Moretti.
The respectable Moretti.
Harvard MBA.
Charity galas.
Magazine covers.
A man who constantly complained that Luca’s reputation was poisoning the family’s legitimate businesses.
Luca slowly folded the paper.
“This isn’t about Raymond getting Norah back.”
Monroe nodded.
“No.”
“It’s about making me unstable.”
“Or unavailable.”
My hand moved protectively over Sofia.
Luca looked at me.
Then at Melissa.
“Where is Raymond now?”
Melissa’s face went pale.
“He knows about the board meeting.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“He said if he couldn’t have Norah…”
May you like
My pulse stopped.
“…he’d make sure you couldn’t either.”
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