Chapter 10 - SOMEONE INSIDE MY FATHER’S COMPANY WANTED THE MORETTIS CLOSE
Dad hated betrayal.
Not loudly.
He became colder.
That was worse.
Vale Crown’s internal investigation traced the forged partnership letter to David Sloan, a senior vice president in development.
I knew David.
He had attended Christmas at our house twice.
Worked for Dad eighteen years.
Why would he help Eleanor?
Money.
Always less interesting than people expect.
David Sloan had been negotiating secretly with a private equity fund seeking to buy a minority position in Vale Crown’s hotel development arm.
Moretti Architectural Development was supposed to become the fund’s preferred renovation partner.
If Moretti grew through Vale Crown contracts, its valuation increased.
The fund could later roll both businesses into a larger transaction.
David Sloan stood to receive millions.
Eleanor had been useful.
She believed the forged letter was real.
She expected a flood of contracts after my daughter’s birth.
That explained why she became obsessed with keeping Dominic and me married.
Not just the trust.
The baby symbolized long-term family connection.
Family connection meant contracts.
At least in her head.
Dad stared at Sloan during the board inquiry.
“You used my daughter’s marriage as business development.”
Sloan looked down.
“Yes.”
That was one of the rare moments I saw my father genuinely hurt.
Not as CEO.
As Dad.
He had spent years keeping my private life separate from Vale Crown precisely to prevent this.
And someone used the separation to create fake promises.
Sloan was terminated following the formal process.
The proposed private-equity transaction ended.
Vale Crown tightened governance.
Dad did something else.
He asked me to join the board immediately.
I said no.
Everyone stared.
“Why?” Dad asked.
“Because I’m eight months pregnant, divorcing my husband, and currently allergic to family companies.”
Anthony actually laughed.
Dad did not.
Then he did.
Progress.
“I’ll join after maternity leave.”
Dad nodded.
“My daughter negotiates.”
“Your daughter has boundaries.”
“More expensive.”
“Much.”
Then Dominic asked to meet.
Public place.
No attorneys.
I agreed because our legal issues were already structured.
He looked thinner.
Tired.
“My mother moved out.”
“From your parents’ house?”
“Yes.”
Anthony and Eleanor had separated.
I felt no satisfaction.
A marriage ending is not entertainment even when you understand why.
“Chloe?”
“Jason filed paperwork.”
“I know.”
Dominic looked down.
Then:
“I started therapy.”
I smiled slightly.
“What?”
“You look surprised.”
“I’m trying not to.”
He laughed.
Then he became serious.
“I spent the first session explaining everyone else.”
“That sounds like you.”
“The therapist said the same thing.”
I liked her already.
Dominic looked at me.
“I don’t expect you to come back.”
“Good.”
“But I want to become someone our daughter feels safe disagreeing with.”
That sentence mattered more than any apology.
Then he slid something across the café table.
A resignation letter.
He was stepping down as president of Moretti Architectural Development.
“Why?”
“I never earned it properly.”
“You worked there for twelve years.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“No. But being Anthony Moretti’s son moved me faster than competence alone would have.”
Honest.
He would remain with the company in a project role once the audit ended.
Lower title.
Less authority.
More accountability.
Then my phone rang.
My doctor.
“Vivienne, how far are you from the hospital?”
My stomach tightened.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Come in.”
The baby had decided she was no longer interested in waiting.
Dominic stood.
“I’ll drive.”
I looked at him.
For one second, every betrayal between us remained true.
So did another fact.
He was her father.
“Okay.”
May you like
Then another contraction hit.
And everything else disappeared.
