Chapter 2 - THE MEN WHO FOUND ME FIRST
I checked out of the hotel at 4:00 a.m.
I didn’t tell Luca where I was going.
I didn’t tell Adrian anything.
I took a taxi to South Station, changed cars twice, then booked a room in Cambridge under Maya’s name.
Paranoid?
Maybe.
But I had spent three years married to a man whose enemies understood leverage better than love.
A pregnant wife was leverage.
A secret pregnant wife was priceless.
At 7:30 that morning, Rebecca arrived.
She looked at my face and immediately locked the hotel-room door.
“What happened?”
I showed her Luca’s messages.
She read them twice.
“Do you trust him?”
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
“I trust him more than most people Adrian employs.”
“That was not a yes.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
That was why I hired her.
Rebecca never confused familiarity with safety.
She opened her briefcase.
“Adrian’s attorney contacted me.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does he want?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“He has been instructed not to contest your temporary financial separation.”
I frowned.
“That doesn’t sound like Adrian.”
“He also offered to continue your health insurance independently of the divorce.”
“I don’t want his money.”
“Medical coverage is not romance, Claire.”
“I know.”
“Triplicate that thought because you’re pregnant.”
I sighed.
“Fine.”
Then Rebecca became serious.
“There’s something else.”
She placed a folder on the table.
As senior financial analyst at Moretti Capital, I had worked on dozens of complex acquisitions.
I knew legitimate operations existed beside Adrian’s darker world, but I had deliberately refused to touch anything criminal.
That was the boundary I demanded before marrying him.
Apparently someone else had been less careful.
Rebecca showed me four shell-company transactions.
I recognized the numbers.
Not the companies.
“These amounts came from one of my models.”
“What model?”
“The Hudson restructuring.”
A legitimate deal.
Except somebody had copied my work and used it to move money through entities I had never seen.
“Who authorized this?”
“Initials only.”
S.M.
I stared.
Salvatore Moretti.
Adrian’s uncle.
Vice chairman of Moretti Capital.
The man who had spent three years treating me like another employee because Adrian never told him I was family.
Or maybe Salvatore knew.
That possibility hit harder.
My prepaid phone buzzed.
Another unknown number.
This time, I answered.
“Claire.”
Adrian.
His voice nearly destroyed every wall I had built.
“How did you get this number?”
“I didn’t.”
I said nothing.
“Luca connected the call without giving me the number.”
That sounded plausible.
“What do you want?”
“To hear your voice.”
My eyes closed.
“Adrian.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know you left because I failed you.”
The words were too clean.
Too late.
“You didn’t forget an anniversary. You denied I existed.”
His breathing changed.
“I was wrong.”
“You were deliberate.”
“Yes.”
That answer stopped me.
No excuses.
Not yet.
Then he said:
“Someone photographed you leaving your obstetrician three days ago.”
My hand went to my stomach.
“How?”
“I’m trying to find out.”
“Salvatore?”
Silence.
“You know something.”
“Claire—”
“Tell me.”
“He asked yesterday whether there was a Moretti heir I hadn’t disclosed.”
My blood went cold.
“Why would he ask that?”
“That is what I’m trying to determine.”
Before I could answer, someone knocked on the hotel door.
Three slow knocks.
Rebecca looked at me.
Nobody knew we were there.
Then a man’s voice came through the door.
“Mrs. Moretti?”
My heart stopped.
I had checked in as Claire Bennett.
The voice continued:
“Mr. Salvatore Moretti would like a word.”
Adrian heard it through the phone.
His voice changed instantly.
“Claire, do not open that door.”
Then he said something I had never heard before.
Not a command.
Not a threat.
May you like
Fear.
“Please.”
