Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER'S DEBT AND THE CEDAR CHEST
The threat hung in the air like a guillotine blade.
My knees went weak. My brother, Thomas, was sitting in a rehab clinic, completely helpless, recovering from a shattered spine. If Arthur Vance called in a forty-thousand-dollar mob debt, Thomas wouldn't just be thrown out of the clinic—he would be executed in his hospital bed.
Tears of pure, suffocating terror spilled over my cheeks. I looked at Luca, clutching the photograph, completely paralyzed by the threat of losing Lucy. We had the truth, but Arthur held all the power.
"You have until tomorrow morning at nine A.M. to publicly reaffirm the merger and the wedding, Luca," Arthur said smoothly, buttoning his suit jacket. "Vivienne and I will be staying at the Plaza Hotel tonight. I suggest you spend the evening calming your nerves and preparing your vows. And Claire... I expect you to have your bags packed and be off this property in ten minutes."
Arthur turned on his heel and walked toward the grand foyer, flanked by his two massive guards. Vivienne followed him, but she paused just before she passed me.
She leaned in close, her expensive perfume masking the rot underneath.
"I told you to throw that rag away, Claire," Vivienne whispered, her eyes flashing with pure malice. "Now I'm throwing you away."
She swept out the front doors, leaving Luca and me standing alone in the shattered hallway.
The heavy front doors clicked shut, echoing through the empty mansion.
I fell to my knees amidst the broken porcelain, sobbing uncontrollably into my hands. I had tried to be brave. I had tried to protect Lucy. And in doing so, I had just signed my brother's death warrant.
"Claire."
Luca dropped to his knees right into the sharp shards of broken pottery, not caring that the porcelain cut through his expensive slacks. He gently pried my hands away from my face. His dark eyes were no longer paralyzed by shock. They were burning with a fierce, cold, calculating fire.
"He’s going to kill my brother, Luca," I choked out, unable to breathe. "I’m so sorry. I didn't know he owned the debt."
"Listen to me," Luca commanded, his voice a low, steady rumble that commanded absolute focus. He gripped my shoulders firmly. "Arthur Vance thinks he is playing chess against a grieving widower and a frightened maid. He forgot that before I wore suits, I grew up on the docks of South Chicago. Nobody touches your family. Do you hear me? Nobody."
Luca pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit a single speed-dial number.
"Marco," Luca said the moment the line connected. His voice was completely stripped of his corporate refinement; he sounded like a mob boss ordering a hit. "I need six men at the South Side rehab clinic right now. Pull Thomas out of his room, put him in the armored SUV, and move him to the safe house in Lake Geneva. Tell the casino bosses that if anyone comes looking for that debt, they answer to me personally. Do it now."
He hung up the phone and looked back at me.
"Your brother is safe, Claire," Luca said, his thumb gently wiping a tear from my cheek. It was a brief, intimate touch that sent a jolt of electricity straight through my chest, cutting through the panic. "Arthur has my company assets frozen, but he doesn't own my personal security team. They are loyal to me."
"But what about Lucy?" I asked, my voice trembling. "If you fight him, he’ll use the forged guardianship papers in family court. He’ll say you’re bankrupt and unstable."
Luca stood up, pulling me to my feet with him.
"He can only win in court if he has the money to fight," Luca said, staring at the closed front doors. "Elena knew this day was coming. That’s why she hid the vault key in her wedding dress. She left a note saying, 'Don't let her find the ledger.' Whatever is inside Vault 412 at First Republic Bank isn't just proof of her murder. It’s the weapon she designed to destroy Arthur Vance."
"But Arthur took the key," I realized, a fresh wave of despair washing over me. "He’s going to the bank the minute it opens at 9:00 A.M. tomorrow to empty the box and destroy the ledger!"
"Then we have to know exactly what is in that ledger before 9:00 A.M.," Luca said grimly. "If we know what Elena hid, we can subpoena the bank records before Arthur destroys the physical copy. But Elena never told me a thing. She must have left a clue somewhere else in the house."
"Mr. Moretti."
We both turned.
Ruth stood at the end of the hallway, holding Lucy’s hand. The older housekeeper looked pale, but her chin was held high.
"If Miss Elena left a clue about what is in that bank vault," Ruth said quietly, "she didn't hide it in the study. She gave it to me."
Luca walked quickly toward her. "Ruth, what are you talking about?"
Ruth led us back into the staff kitchen, locking the doors behind us. She sat Lucy down at the small table with a glass of warm milk, then walked over to the tall, walk-in pantry.
She reached up to the very top shelf, behind the dusty, unused copper soup pots, and pulled down a heavy, intricately carved cedar wood box. It was about the size of a shoebox, secured with a small brass padlock.
Ruth set it on the stainless-steel prep counter.
"Three weeks before she died, Miss Elena called me into her bedroom," Ruth said, her voice trembling slightly with the memory. "She looked so weak. She was sweating, and her hands were shaking. She gave me this box and a tiny brass key. She made me swear on the Bible that I would hide it in the pantry and never tell a soul—especially you, Mr. Moretti."
"Why didn't she want me to know?" Luca asked, staring at the cedar box as if it were a ghost.
"Because she said Arthur Vance was watching your every move," Ruth explained. "She said if Arthur suspected you knew the truth, he would arrange for you to have a 'fatal car accident' before you could protect Lucy. She told me to only open this box if Vivienne ever tried to take legal custody of her."
Ruth reached into her uniform pocket and produced a tiny brass key on a simple string. She handed it to Luca.
Luca’s hands shook as he inserted the key into the padlock. It clicked open with a sharp snap.
He lifted the heavy cedar lid.
Inside the box lay a stack of medical files, a collection of printed emails, and a thick, leather-bound diary with Elena’s initials embossed in gold on the cover.
Luca bypassed the files and picked up the diary. He opened it to the very last entry, dated two days before she died.
I leaned over his shoulder, reading the elegant, frantic handwriting.
August 14th.I am dying. The doctors say it’s my heart, but I know it’s the tea. Vivienne brings me tea every night, and every morning I wake up weaker, my chest burning. She thinks I don't know who she really is. She thinks I hired her as my assistant out of pity. But I hired a private investigator last month. Vivienne isn't just Arthur Vance’s corporate spy. She is his illegitimate daughter.
Luca gasped, stumbling back against the counter. "His daughter?"
Arthur has been using her to infiltrate my family for years, the diary continued. They want the controlling shares of Moretti Industries. But they don't know that my father’s original trust document doesn't leave the controlling shares to you, Luca. It leaves them to the firstborn child of our marriage. It leaves the entire empire to Lucy.
May you like
The blood roared in my ears. The company didn't belong to Luca. It belonged to an eight-year-old girl.
If I die, Elena wrote, Arthur and Vivienne plan to forge a medical guardianship over Lucy. As her legal guardians, they will control the company until she turns eighteen. I have hidden the original, unalterable trust ledger in Vault 412. I have hidden the key in my wedding dress. But Luca... you must hurry. Because once Vivienne officially becomes Lucy’s stepmother on your wedding day, they won't just steal the company. They will kill Lucy to inherit it outright.
