Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF BEING A MORETTI
"Tomorrow morning?"
I stared at the court filing on Marcus's phone.
"That's less than twelve hours away."
Marcus nodded.
"Rafael filed an emergency petition. He's claiming the boys have no established legal parentage and that your house isn't safe."
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because twenty-four hours earlier, I hadn't known I had children.
Now my closest friend was using the life I'd built to argue that I shouldn't be allowed to raise them.
"Can he do that?"
"He can ask. Whether the court agrees is another matter."
I looked at Martin.
"Will you testify about Sofia's car?"
His face tightened.
"My family—"
"I'll make sure they're protected."
He shook his head.
"Mr. Moretti, with respect, that's what your kind of men always say."
The words stung.
Because he was right.
My promises had always been backed by power.
Not trust.
Not law.
Power.
And Sofia had died because the people who controlled that power could use it without my knowledge.
I looked at Marcus.
"Arrange independent protection for Martin's family. Properly. Through people who can be held accountable."
Marcus studied me.
"That's a different answer than I expected."
"I'm beginning to understand how much damage my old answers have caused."
We left before dawn.
By the time I reached the mansion, Elena was making pancakes.
Four little boys sat in their pajamas around the kitchen island.
Mateo had flour on his nose.
Nico was arguing with Luca about which pancake was bigger.
Tomas sat quietly, holding a stuffed rabbit.
I stopped in the doorway.
They looked so ordinary.
So wonderfully ordinary.
Nothing about them belonged in the dangerous world I had created.
"Good morning!" Mateo shouted.
Then he held up his toy car.
"Uncle Rafe gave me this, but I like your blocks better."
Elena looked at me.
She knew I'd been out all night.
She knew I had bad news.
But for a few minutes, I sat beside my sons and ate pancakes.
Nico pushed half of his onto my plate.
"You're big. You need more."
I smiled.
"Thank you."
Then Tomas asked something that nearly broke me.
"Are we going back to Rosa's house?"
"Not today."
"Is Rosa coming?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Good. I miss her."
I reached across the table.
"She misses you, too."
After breakfast, I met Marcus, Dr. Vale, Rosa, and an attorney recommended by Marcus.
There were no miraculous documents waiting to solve everything.
There were medical records.
Embryo storage records bearing the signatures Sofia and I had provided years earlier.
A gestational carrier agreement.
Hospital records establishing the boys' birth.
Evidence that Sofia and I were the intended parents.
The records supported the truth.
But Rafael's accusation wasn't limited to parentage.
He was arguing that my household placed the children in danger.
And I knew exactly how many reasons he could offer.
"My business history will be used against me," I said.
The attorney nodded.
"It could be."
"I won't lie about it."
Marcus looked up.
"Good."
The attorney continued.
"We can establish that the boys have been cared for appropriately. But the court may require independent oversight while the situation is investigated."
I looked through the window.
Four boys were chasing each other across the lawn under Elena's supervision.
"Then let them investigate."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"Even your business operations?"
I hesitated.
Because my empire wasn't entirely legitimate.
There were warehouses where I preferred not to ask questions.
Shipping contracts maintained through intimidation.
Men on my payroll whose loyalty depended on fear.
For years, I'd told myself that was simply how survival worked.
But what kind of father would I be if I taught my sons the same thing?
"Start with the waterfront accounts," I said.
Marcus leaned forward.
"What does that mean?"
"It means Rafael doesn't get to hide behind my name anymore. Bring independent auditors. Open the legitimate company records."
"That could expose you."
"I know."
The room fell silent.
Then Rosa reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"Sofia always believed you could be better than the life you inherited."
I looked down.
"She believed a lot of things about me that I didn't deserve."
"Maybe," Rosa replied. "But she wasn't foolish."
By noon, the court had authorized a child welfare assessment pending the emergency hearing.
A caseworker arrived at the estate accompanied by a uniformed officer.
I welcomed them.
Elena showed them the bedrooms.
Rosa explained the boys' routines.
Dr. Vale provided the medical history.
I answered questions about my household honestly, including the security risks.
The caseworker was professional.
She wasn't interested in my reputation.
She wanted to know whether the boys had safe beds, familiar caregivers, and adults who would protect them.
For once, those were the right questions.
By late afternoon, she told us the children could remain temporarily in our care while the review continued, provided we complied with the safety plan.
Rafael's immediate attempt had failed.
But as Marcus accompanied the caseworker outside, I noticed something.
The red toy car was missing from the sunroom.
So was Mateo.
At first, nobody panicked.
He might have gone upstairs.
Or into the kitchen.
Or behind the couch.
But after five minutes, Elena began searching frantically.
"Mateo?"
No answer.
"Sweetheart?"
I checked the bedrooms.
The bathrooms.
The garden.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the side service entrance.
Its security panel had been opened.
The lock was disabled.
A guard rushed toward me.
"Boss, one of the afternoon maintenance workers signed in through the secondary gate."
"Who authorized him?"
The guard looked down.
"Mr. De Santis."
My blood turned cold.
I ran toward the service courtyard.
Near the fountain, lying on the stone pavement, was a small red toy car.
Its plastic door had been broken.
Beside it was Mateo's blue backpack.
I picked it up.
Inside, someone had placed a folded piece of paper.
Not written by a child.
Written by Rafael.
May you like
The message contained only one sentence.
IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR SON AGAIN, COME TO THE WATERFRONT OFFICE ALONE.
