Chapter 2 - THE BROTHER WHO BOARDED THE ENEMY'S PLANE
By eight o'clock, Dante Moretti had learned three things.
His fiancée had stolen an impression of the family seal.
Her father intended to use it before Friday.
And Dante's younger brother had boarded a private jet belonging to the very man who stood to benefit.
What he had not learned was why.
That question was becoming dangerous.
"Bring me Luca's financial records," Dante ordered.
Marco stood across the desk, his expression grim.
"All of them?"
"Every account. Every transfer. Every dollar he spent without asking me."
"He's your brother."
Dante looked up.
"That's why he's still alive long enough for me to ask questions."
Marco nodded and left.
Dante walked toward the windows overlooking the rain-soaked gardens.
He remembered Luca at seventeen, standing beside their father's coffin.
Dante had been twenty-six then, already carrying the burden of the family organization.
Luca had been a frightened teenager who barely understood why their father had died.
Dante had promised to protect him.
For fifteen years, he had kept that promise.
He had paid Luca's debts, buried his mistakes, and defended him against men who would have exploited his weakness.
But loyalty could become blindness.
And Dante had been blind before.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
Elena stood outside the study.
"May I come in?"
Dante nodded.
She entered without Sophia.
Her dark hair was pulled into a loose knot. Her uniform had been replaced by jeans and a cream sweater.
She looked exhausted.
"Mr. Moretti, I need to know what's happening."
"I'm trying to find out."
"That's not enough."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Most employees would never have spoken to him that way.
Elena continued anyway.
"My daughter is three years old. She doesn't understand security guards or locked gates. She thinks we're having a sleepover."
Dante said nothing.
"Last night, someone called my phone."
His attention sharpened.
"Who?"
"I don't know. A woman."
"What did she say?"
Elena swallowed.
"She asked whether Sophia liked her stuffed cat."
Dante slowly straightened.
"What else?"
"She said little girls should be careful about repeating grown-up conversations."
The room became terribly quiet.
"Why didn't you tell me immediately?"
"Because I was scared!"
Her voice cracked.
"I work in a house where men carry guns under their jackets. Your fiancée looks at me like I'm dirt on her shoes. And now somebody knows what toy my daughter sleeps with."
Dante crossed the room.
"Give me your phone."
She handed it over.
He called Marco and ordered an immediate trace.
Then he looked at Elena.
"Nobody is going to touch Sophia."
"You can't promise that."
"Watch me."
For a moment, something shifted between them.
Elena had spent four years seeing Dante Moretti as a distant, powerful employer.
Now she saw the exhaustion beneath his authority.
And Dante saw something he had overlooked for years.
Courage.
Not the theatrical courage of armed men.
The quiet courage of a mother who was terrified and still refused to surrender.
His phone rang.
Marco.
"We traced the call."
"Who made it?"
"Disposable number. But the tower location puts it near the Costa residence."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"Anything else?"
"Yes. Luca's bank records."
"Tell me."
"Three months ago, he received twelve million dollars."
Dante stared at the wall.
"From whom?"
"An investment company registered in Delaware."
"Who owns it?"
Marco paused.
"Victor Costa."
Dante closed his eyes.
Twelve million dollars.
His brother had sold something.
But what?
Before he could speak, another call flashed across his screen.
Isabella.
He answered without greeting.
"Darling," she purred. "I have wonderful news."
Dante looked at Elena.
"What news?"
"My father moved the wedding forward."
Dante's pulse slowed into something cold.
"To when?"
"Tomorrow afternoon."
"That's sudden."
"I know. But there's a reason."
He waited.
Isabella laughed softly.
May you like
"Your brother has agreed to be your best man."
And Dante realized that whatever was happening, his enemies no longer intended to wait until Friday night.
