Chapter 6 - THE MAN DANTE TRUSTED WITH HIS LIFE
“Step away from the desk, Luca.”
Dante's voice was steady.
That made it worse.
Luca looked at the bank record.
Then at Dante's hand resting near the open drawer.
“Boss, I can explain.”
“Then start.”
Luca remained still.
“The account was opened in my name when I was nineteen.”
Dante narrowed his eyes.
“You're twenty-eight.”
“I know.”
“Who opened it?”
“My father.”
Dante stared.
Luca's father, Pietro Romano, had served as a financial investigator before dying in a warehouse fire nine years earlier.
Dante had known him only briefly.
“He was looking into Marcus,” Luca continued. “He believed Moretti Holdings was being used to move stolen money.”
“And you never told me?”
“I didn't know about the account until two years ago.”
Dante pushed the paper across the desk.
“Then why is it receiving payments now?”
Luca looked at the transaction dates.
His face lost color.
“These aren't payments to me.”
“What are they?”
“Transfers Marcus arranged to make it look like I was involved.”
Dante's expression didn't change.
“Convenient explanation.”
Luca reached slowly into his jacket.
Dante's hand tightened.
“Don't.”
Luca stopped.
“My wallet. There's a photograph inside.”
Dante nodded once.
Luca removed a worn photograph and placed it on the desk.
It showed Pietro Romano standing beside Thomas Hartley.
Both men were younger.
Behind them stood Catherine Moretti.
Dante's breath caught.
“You knew Thomas?”
“No. My father did.”
Luca leaned forward.
“He told me once that a good man had to choose between protecting a friend and protecting the truth. He said the right choice might cost him everything.”
Dante stared at the photograph.
“Why didn't you tell me your father investigated my family?”
“Because the last man who asked questions about his death disappeared from his job. I needed access to the company records before I could prove anything.”
Dante slowly removed his hand from the drawer.
“You used me.”
Luca's eyes hardened.
“At first.”
The admission hurt more than a denial would have.
Luca continued.
“I took this job to find out why my father died. But the longer I worked for you, the more I realized you weren't the man Marcus claimed you were.”
“And what kind of man did he claim I was?”
“A man who would bury evidence to protect the family name.”
Dante turned away.
For years, Marcus had spoken to everyone about Dante.
Defining him.
Controlling how people approached him.
Making sure fear reached the room before he did.
“Give me one reason to trust you now.”
Luca opened his wallet again.
He removed a folded letter.
It was addressed to Dante.
In Pietro Romano's handwriting.
If my son ever works beside you, understand that he may know more about your enemies than your friends do. Judge him by what he protects, not by what he hides.
Dante read the words twice.
Then handed the letter back.
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand what that has cost us?”
“Yes.”
Dante looked at the bank record.
“Then help me prove whether those payments were meant to frame you.”
Luca spent the next four hours tracing the transfers.
He discovered that the account had been dormant for years.
It became active only after Marcus learned that Luca had been promoted to security chief.
The transfers were designed to make Luca appear to be receiving illegal payments.
If Dante died Saturday, Luca could be blamed.
And if Luca was arrested, no one would remain inside Moretti Holdings with access to the original investigation.
Dante recognized the strategy.
Marcus wasn't simply eliminating obstacles.
He was arranging for the truth to discredit itself.
Meanwhile, Elena found Sophie sitting beneath the kitchen table.
Mr. Fluffle rested on her knees.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“Listening.”
“To what?”
“The house.”
Elena smiled sadly.
“The house doesn't talk.”
Sophie pointed toward the floor.
“It clicks.”
Elena knelt.
From somewhere behind the kitchen wall came a faint mechanical sound.
Click.
Pause.
Click.
She remembered Sophie's first question about the mirror.
Then she remembered how easily Marcus had watched them.
“Elena?”
Dante stood in the doorway.
She looked up.
“There's something behind the wall.”
Luca inspected the ventilation panel.
Inside sat a small recording device.
Unlike the mirror camera, this one had no live transmitter.
It recorded locally.
Someone had installed it to capture conversations in the kitchen.
Conversations between staff.
Conversations between Elena and Sophie.
Dante felt anger rise.
But Luca pointed to a tiny blue indicator.
“This recorder was recently accessed.”
“By whom?”
Luca checked the device history.
“The maintenance system.”
“Marcus controls maintenance.”
“Not anymore,” Luca replied. “I revoked his credentials yesterday.”
Dante frowned.
“Then who accessed it?”
Luca pulled up the log.
A staff identification number appeared.
Elena recognized it immediately.
It belonged to Frank Caldwell.
Dante's expression tightened.
Frank had told him the truth about Catherine.
Had given him Antonio's watch.
Had cried over twenty years of silence.
And now his name appeared beside a hidden recording device.
Before Dante could speak, Sophie crawled out from beneath the table.
“Mr. Dante?”
“Yes, little lion?”
“Mr. Frank isn't bad.”
Dante looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because he made the click thing stop yesterday.”
Luca checked the timestamps.
Sophie was right.
Frank hadn't activated the recorder.
He had disabled its microphone.
Dante exhaled.
Then Sophie added something that made Elena grip the table.
“The pretty lady got mad at him.”
“What pretty lady?” Dante asked.
“The one with the white coat.”
Isabella.
Sophie hugged Mr. Fluffle.
“She told Mr. Frank he had to fix it before Saturday.”
Dante looked at Luca.
Saturday was less than twenty-four hours away.
And the next surveillance record revealed something even worse.
At 8:15 the following evening, Isabella had scheduled a private meeting inside Dante's drawing room.
With Marcus.
With three company directors.
May you like
And with a doctor whose name appeared on Catherine Moretti's final medical report.
DR. EDWARD VALE.
