Chapter 2 - The Investigator in the Shadows
The atmosphere inside the Moretti mansion became suffocatingly tense over the next forty-eight hours.
To the rest of the household staff and the public, everything appeared normal. Vanessa walked through the marble halls in her silk gowns, issuing arrogant orders and planning the extravagant details of their upcoming million-dollar wedding. She genuinely believed her violent intimidation of me had worked—that I was just a frightened, powerless domestic worker who would keep my mouth shut to protect my paycheck.
She had no idea that Luca had placed four underbosses outside her private quarters, monitoring her every phone call, text message, and encrypted email.
At 2:00 AM on Thursday night, Marco brought William Mercer through the iron gates of the estate in handcuffs.
The private investigator was thrown onto a wooden chair in the subterranean wine cellar beneath the main house. His face was pale, sweating profusely, his expensive suit rumpled and dirty.
Luca walked down the stone steps slowly, his heavy leather shoes echoing off the damp walls. I stood near the top of the stairs, wrapped in a dark wool cardigan, holding a tray of medical supplies in case things turned violent. Luca had insisted I stay nearby to identify Mercer's voice and confirm his statements.
“Mr. Mercer,” Luca spoke softly, his deep voice carrying an unnatural, terrifying calm. He stopped three feet from the tied investigator, pouring a glass of dark red wine from a vintage bottle resting on a nearby barrel. “You walked into my home during my engagement dinner. You laid hands on my household staff. And you collected classified files on my former family.”
Mercer swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically toward Marco, who stood behind him with his arms crossed, his posture stone-cold.
“I... I was just taking a job, Don Moretti!” Mercer stammered out, his voice cracking with sheer panic. “I didn't know who she was targeting until I saw the files! Miss Vanessa paid me fifty thousand dollars in cash to track your ex-wife's legal team!”
Luca took a slow sip of wine, his gray eyes unblinking. “What did she ask you to forge, Mercer?”
Mercer shook his head frantically. “It wasn't a forgery! It was an original document! Miss Vanessa found out that four years ago, when you and Elena signed your divorce settlement, a key signature on the dock authority transfer was never notarized by the state! The land officially still belongs solely to Elena’s family trust!”
I gasped softly from the top of the stairs.
If the land for the Moretti shipping docks—the primary artery for all of Luca’s legitimate freight lines and illegal syndicate shipments—was still legally tied to his ex-wife's maiden trust, then Luca’s entire economic empire was standing on quicksand.
“Vanessa knew that if she sent those doctored photos to Elena,” I spoke up, stepping down two stairs into the dim light of the cellar, “she could provoke Elena into launching a sudden property audit before the wedding. Why would Vanessa want your ex-wife to seize the docks, Luca?”
Luca turned his gaze from the sweating investigator to me. His expression was calculated, dark, and analytical.
“Because Vanessa isn't working alone,” Luca murmured, the realization dawning on him like a cold winter sunrise. “She doesn't want the docks for herself. She wants to trigger an emergency court freeze on my assets so her real partners can buy out my debt at a fraction of its value.”
Mercer began to weep, his knees shaking against the wooden chair legs. “She... she's meeting her primary handler tonight at the South Port Marina! At 4:00 AM! She’s supposed to hand over the original unnotarized deed to them!”
Luca smashed his crystal wine glass against the stone floor, the shattering sound making Mercer shriek in terror.
“Marco,” Luca commanded flatly. “Lock Mercer in the holding cell upstairs. Mobilize two tactical units. We are going to the marina.”
Luca turned and walked up the stone steps toward me. He stopped directly in front of me, reaching out with his broad, warm hand to gently touch the side of my jaw. The swelling on my cheek had begun to go down, leaving a faint, dark yellow bruise behind.
His gray eyes softened with a deep, unexpected intensity that made my pulse race wildly.
“You saved my empire tonight, Olivia,” Luca whispered, his thumb lightly stroking my cheek. “If you hadn't brought me that photograph... I would have walked straight into her trap on our wedding day.”
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“I just couldn't let her destroy you, Don Luca,” I replied softly, leaning into his warm touch for a brief, breathless second.
“Call me Luca,” he corrected gently, a rare, breathtakingly handsome smirk touching his lips. “And get your coat. You're coming with me to the marina.”
