Chapter 2
Rafael’s legitimate real-estate companies had spent the previous two years buying boutique hotels, restaurant sites, and mixed-use properties throughout New York and New Jersey.
The acquisitions division was profitable.
Competitive.
Fast.
Logan had become valuable because he knew how to keep difficult transactions moving.
He knew brokers.
Owners.
Lenders.
Contractors.
He also knew Rafael’s habits.
When Rafael liked a property, he set two numbers.
The public offer.
And the absolute ceiling he would pay if negotiations became difficult.
Only four people were supposed to know the ceiling:
Rafael.
Chief financial officer Martin Keane.
General counsel Rebecca Sloan.
And Logan, if he was leading negotiations.
Cassandra had no business role.
She occasionally helped with gala planning or design introductions.
Nothing more.
Yet Lucy’s description bothered Rafael.
He asked Daniel:
“Have red acquisition folders been delivered through the estate recently?”
Daniel checked.
“Yes.”
“Why not directly to my office?”
“Your assistant started using the service entrance during large events so couriers wouldn’t cross guest areas.”
“When?”
“About seven months ago.”
Rafael remembered approving that.
Convenience.
Again.
That evening, Martin brought him a list of acquisitions lost during the same seven-month period.
Four properties stood out.
A Tribeca boutique hotel.
A waterfront restaurant parcel in Brooklyn.
A small historic hotel near Tarrytown.
And an industrial conversion site in Long Island City.
Moretti entities had lost all four.
Not dramatically.
Each winning bid exceeded Rafael’s final number by an unusually narrow amount.
The Tribeca property:
Rafael’s ceiling — $18.4 million.
Winning offer — $18.55 million.
Brooklyn:
Rafael — $11.7 million.
Winner — $11.82 million.
Tarrytown:
Rafael — $9.1 million.
Winner — $9.2 million.
Long Island City:
Rafael — $26 million.
Winner — $26.18 million.
Martin looked at Rafael.
“I noticed the pattern after the third one.”
“And?”
“I thought Logan was just getting predictable.”
“Did you investigate?”
“I asked whether brokers were leaking us.”
“What did Logan say?”
“That aggressive sellers often shop final numbers.”
Reasonable.
It happened.
Then Martin showed him the winning buyer.
Not the same legal entity each time.
Different LLCs.
Different addresses.
But three had financing arranged by the same investment group:
Harbor Crest Partners.
Rafael knew the name.
Small private real-estate fund.
Aggressive.
Recently expanding.
Nothing immediately suspicious.
Then Martin pointed to something else.
Moretti eventually acquired an economic interest in two of the four properties anyway.
Not ownership.
Management rights.
For the Tribeca hotel, Harbor Crest bought the property and six months later awarded Moretti Hospitality a long-term operating contract—with an expensive entry payment.
For the Brooklyn parcel, Moretti purchased Harbor Crest’s development option at a premium after the site became strategically important to another Moretti project.
Rafael frowned.
“So we lost the properties.”
“Yes.”
“Then paid the people who beat us.”
“Yes.”
“Who recommended both secondary deals?”
May you like
Martin did not need the file.
“Logan.”
