Chapter 3 - HIS DEAD FIANCÉE WALKED BACK INTO HIS LIFE
I expected Luca to react.
He didn’t.
That frightened me.
He simply stood beside the dining table while Ethan repeated the sentence.
“Isabella is alive.”
Nothing.
Then Luca asked, “Where?”
“Federal building downtown.”
“I’m going.”
Marcus moved toward him.
“I’ll arrange security.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yes,” I said.
Luca looked at me.
“You absolutely need security.”
His eyes held mine for a moment.
Then he nodded.
“Fine.”
I did not go with him.
I wanted to.
That was exactly why I didn’t.
Isabella was not a mystery to me.
She was not simply a woman from Luca’s past.
She had been his fiancée.
He had loved her.
Whatever happened next belonged to them before it belonged to anyone else.
Ethan remained behind.
“You’re handling this better than I expected,” he said.
“I’m working.”
“You reorganized the same papers three times.”
I stopped.
“Maybe I like organized fraud.”
He smiled.
“You care about him.”
“He’s my boss.”
“That stopped being the whole answer sometime last night.”
I looked at him.
“Are you always this annoying?”
“Professionally.”
We spent two hours tracing the fraudulent approvals.
My credentials had first been used three years earlier.
That bothered me.
I had worked for Luca four years.
Someone had waited almost a year before stealing my authorization.
Why?
Then I found it.
“Ethan.”
He leaned over.
“What?”
“My access changed on March seventeenth three years ago.”
“So?”
“That’s when Luca promoted me to executive secretary.”
Before that, I had been one of three assistants.
Afterward, I became the only employee with access to his full calendar and limited authority over certain executive approvals.
Someone had not chosen me randomly.
They had waited until my credentials became valuable.
I checked system logs.
Every fraudulent authorization happened after midnight.
Always from inside Moretti headquarters.
“But I was never there.”
Ethan frowned.
“Never?”
“Not at those times.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Some.”
I searched my phone.
Receipts.
Transportation records.
Emails.
Then one date stopped me.
October 14.
Two years earlier.
A fraudulent transfer had been approved at 11:52 p.m.
I remembered that night.
I had been at the office.
With Luca.
We were preparing for a Tokyo acquisition.
Only three people remained in the executive suite.
Luca.
Me.
And Peter Wallace.
Peter.
Tall.
Glasses.
The same coworker who had told Ethan I had a boyfriend in Chicago.
My stomach tightened.
I called Luca.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then the elevator opened.
Isabella Romano walked into the penthouse.
Luca followed.
I forgot how to breathe.
She was beautiful.
Not magazine beautiful.
Real beautiful.
Dark hair cut to her shoulders.
Brown eyes.
A scar running from her right temple toward her ear.
She looked forty, exhausted, and frightened.
Luca looked worse.
“Sophia,” he said.
I stood.
Isabella looked at me.
“So you’re her.”
That was not the greeting I expected.
“I’m sorry?”
“The secretary.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Isabella.”
“What? That’s what Charles called her.”
My entire body went cold.
“Charles knows me?”
Isabella laughed bitterly.
“Charles knows everything.”
Luca closed the door.
“Start from the beginning.”
She did.
Seven years earlier, Isabella discovered that Charles and several executives were stealing money from Moretti Holdings.
At first, she believed it was ordinary financial fraud.
Then she discovered something worse.
The money was being used to purchase distressed hotels and properties through shell companies.
Those assets were later sold back to Moretti Holdings at inflated prices.
Hundreds of millions disappeared.
“But why frame Luca?” I asked.
Isabella looked at him.
“Because Charles wanted control.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“My uncle already had shares.”
“Not enough.”
“What happened seven years ago?”
She looked down.
“I found evidence connecting him to the accounts. I told Luca.”
“You told me part of it,” Luca said.
“I didn’t know who I could trust.”
“You could have trusted me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Luca laughed without humor.
“By disappearing?”
Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t choose to.”
Silence.
She continued.
“Charles found out I contacted Ethan’s father. He sent men to my apartment.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“How did you escape?”
“Your father.”
Ethan froze.
“He got me out.”
“My father knew you were alive?”
“Yes.”
Pain crossed Ethan’s face.
“He never told me.”
“He couldn’t.”
She explained that federal investigators had attempted to build a case against Charles.
But the evidence collapsed.
Witnesses disappeared.
Accounts were emptied.
And Isabella had been placed under a protected identity.
“Why stay hidden seven years?” Luca asked.
Her face broke.
“Because Charles threatened you.”
Luca stared at her.
“He showed me photographs of you. Matteo. Your mother. He said if I ever came back, he would destroy all of you.”
“You should have let me decide.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I know.”
“For seven years.”
Tears ran down her face.
“I know.”
I looked away.
This was not my moment.
Luca asked the question I had been afraid he would ask.
“Why come back now?”
Isabella wiped her face.
“Because Charles is preparing to finish what he started.”
“What?”
“Frame you.”
I looked at Ethan.
The fraudulent approvals.
The travel schedule.
Everything.
Isabella continued.
“The Mercer merger is the final piece. Once it closes, Charles moves the stolen assets into the combined company. Then evidence appears showing Luca authorized everything.”
Daniel Mercer.
“Is Daniel involved?” Ethan asked.
“No.”
That surprised us.
“Then why the envelope at the gala?”
“Charles wanted you suspicious of Daniel.”
Of course.
Luca had been right.
The obvious suspect list had been constructed for us.
I thought of Peter.
“What about Peter Wallace?”
Isabella’s expression changed.
“Who?”
“Operations chief.”
“I don’t know him.”
I opened my laptop.
“Someone used my credentials while Peter and I were both inside Moretti headquarters.”
Luca moved beside me.
“When?”
“October fourteenth.”
He remembered.
His eyes narrowed.
“Tokyo.”
“Yes.”
Isabella looked at the screen.
“Find out when Peter joined the company.”
I searched.
Nine years earlier.
The fraud began nine years earlier.
Ethan whispered, “There it is.”
Peter worked for Charles.
We called Marcus.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Luca’s phone rang.
Matteo.
His younger brother.
Luca answered.
“Where are you?”
Matteo sounded panicked.
“Luca, don’t come to the office.”
“What happened?”
“Peter’s dead.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
“He fell from the executive floor.”
My stomach turned.
“Police are here.”
Luca’s face hardened.
“Stay there.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
Matteo’s voice broke.
“They found a note.”
“What note?”
A pause.
“It says Sophia paid him to falsify the records.”
Everyone looked at me.
Matteo continued.
“And they found two hundred thousand dollars in his apartment.”
“Connected to Sophia?” Luca asked.
“Yes.”
My legs weakened.
“How?”
“Bank records.”
I sat down.
Ethan grabbed my laptop.
“That’s impossible.”
Matteo said, “There’s more.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“What?”
“Security footage shows Sophia entering Peter’s office last night.”
“I was at the gala.”
“I know.”
“But the footage—”
“It looks like her.”
Isabella whispered, “Charles.”
Luca ended the call.
“Pack a bag.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You need to disappear.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“No.”
“You’re being framed for murder.”
“Then disappearing makes me look guilty.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
His control cracked.
“I am not losing another woman because she thinks she can fight Charles alone.”
Silence.
There it was.
Not secretary.
Not employee.
Woman.
I stood.
“I’m not Isabella.”
Pain flashed across Isabella’s face.
I immediately regretted saying it.
But Luca needed to hear it.
“I don’t disappear because a powerful man tells me to be afraid.”
“This isn’t pride.”
“No. It’s my life.”
His voice rose.
“I’m trying to keep you alive!”
“And I’m trying to keep myself.”
We stared at each other.
Then Isabella spoke.
“She’s right.”
Luca turned.
Isabella wiped her eyes.
“I made that mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I thought loving you meant making the dangerous decision for you.”
The room became still.
“I disappeared to save you. All I did was take seven years away from both of us.”
Luca looked at her.
Something passed between them.
Grief.
History.
Maybe love.
But not the kind that could return to what it had been.
I understood that before either of them said it.
Isabella looked at me.
“Don’t repeat my mistake.”
I nodded.
Ethan stood.
“So we don’t run.”
“No,” I said.
“We prove the footage is fake.”
“And the money.”
“And Peter’s death.”
Luca exhaled.
Then he looked at me.
“You are the most exhausting employee I have ever hired.”
“Former employee.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“I resign.”
“This is not funny.”
“I’m serious.”
“Why?”
“Because if I survive being framed for murder, I am absolutely not having my first real date with my employer.”
Ethan choked on a laugh.
Even Isabella smiled.
Luca stared at me.
“Your first real date?”
“Focus, Moretti.”
Something changed in his eyes.
Hope.
Terrible timing.
We worked through the afternoon.
The security footage was sophisticated but imperfect.
Ethan found the first mistake.
My dress.
The woman entering Peter’s office wore the same midnight-blue gown I wore at the gala.
“That proves nothing,” Luca said.
“It proves everything,” I replied.
They had created the footage after seeing me at the gala.
Before 7:43 p.m., nobody knew which dress I would wear.
Not even Luca.
The fake video had been generated after I arrived.
That meant the digital file’s claimed timestamp was false.
Ethan contacted a forensic specialist.
By evening, we had confirmation.
Manipulated footage.
But Peter was still dead.
And someone had planted money.
We needed Charles.
Not suspicions.
Proof.
Isabella had one thing left.
An old account number.
A shell corporation Charles believed had been erased.
Ethan traced it.
The account still existed.
One payment had been made six hours earlier.
To Marcus Reed.
Luca stared at the screen.
His security director.
The man currently responsible for protecting us.
I slowly looked toward the penthouse entrance.
“Where is Marcus?”
Luca reached for his phone.
Too late.
The elevator opened.
Marcus stepped out.
He was holding a gun.
“I was hoping,” he said quietly, “you wouldn’t find that account.”
Luca moved in front of me.
Marcus smiled sadly.
“You always did that.”
“Did what?”
“Assumed standing in front meant you were protecting people.”
He raised the gun.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Luca.”
“No.”
Marcus sighed.
Then he looked at me.
“Charles wants Sophia alive.”
I almost laughed.
“Wonderful.”
“For now.”
“Less wonderful.”
Marcus gestured toward the elevator.
“All of you.”
Ethan stood.
“Where are we going?”
May you like
Marcus’s eyes settled on Luca.
“To the place Isabella was supposed to die seven years ago.”
