Chapter 4 - MY EX-BOYFRIEND HAD BEEN PAID TO BRING ME INTO THE MAFIA MANSION—BUT WHEN THE OLD DON FINALLY REVEALED WHY, LORENZO MADE THE CHOICE THAT CHANGED BOTH OUR LIVES
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
I stared at the photograph.
Brody Keller.
Mrs. Gable.
Together.
My hands began shaking.
Lorenzo watched me.
"Emma."
I swallowed.
"How?"
Marco looked grim.
"The photograph was taken six months ago."
I stared.
Six months.
Before Brody disappeared.
Before the debts.
Before the eviction threats.
Before I accepted the housekeeping job.
***
I sat down.
My stomach twisted.
"Are you saying he planned this?"
Marco hesitated.
"We don't know everything yet."
Lorenzo looked at him.
"Tell us what you do know."
Marco nodded.
"Brody received several payments from a consulting company tied to Victor Gable's former associates."
I swallowed.
"And?"
Marco continued.
"Those payments began shortly before he disappeared."
I closed my eyes.
***
For months, I had blamed myself.
I thought I had been foolish.
Naive.
Too trusting.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether my entire collapse had been arranged.
***
Lorenzo knelt beside my chair.
"Emma."
I looked at him.
His expression was serious.
"We're going to find out what happened."
I swallowed.
"Why?"
He frowned.
"What?"
"Why would anyone do this to me?"
Lorenzo hesitated.
Then looked toward Marco.
Marco opened another folder.
***
The answer was hidden in an old trust agreement.
After Daniel Bennett's death, Giovanni had arranged financial protection for Sarah and her daughter.
The trust had been established through an independent attorney.
It was intended to provide education expenses, housing support, and eventually a modest inheritance.
But after Sarah died, the trust became difficult to trace.
Records were missing.
Payments had stopped.
And the administrator had changed.
***
I stared.
"Are you saying there was money?"
Lorenzo nodded.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"How much?"
Marco hesitated.
"Enough that you should never have been facing eviction."
My eyes filled.
***
The investigation suggested that funds intended for me had been diverted through accounts linked to Victor Gable's associates.
When I became an adult, I should have received notice of the trust.
I never did.
Instead, the people controlling the accounts apparently continued using the money.
***
Then Giovanni's health declined.
And the people involved feared he might recover enough to reveal what had happened.
***
Lorenzo looked at me.
"Emma, someone may have wanted you inside this house because they were afraid you would eventually discover the trust."
I stared.
"Why bring me here?"
Marco answered carefully.
"Possibly to monitor you. Possibly to pressure you into signing documents. We don't know yet."
My stomach tightened.
I remembered Mrs. Gable asking me to sign employment forms I hadn't understood.
I remembered Brody telling me I was terrible with money.
I remembered the threats.
The humiliation.
The fear.
***
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then Lorenzo took my hand.
"Look at me."
I did.
He spoke quietly.
"None of this was your fault."
My eyes filled.
I shook my head.
"I should have known."
He squeezed my hand.
"You trusted someone you loved."
I began crying.
He continued.
"That isn't a crime."
***
The investigation moved quickly after that.
Brody was located.
Mrs. Gable retained an attorney.
Financial records were subpoenaed.
And the trust's history was reconstructed.
***
The evidence revealed years of questionable transfers.
Money had moved through shell companies.
Several signatures appeared suspicious.
And the original trust documents had been altered without proper authorization.
***
But the most important evidence came from Giovanni.
During a therapy session, he managed to speak several short words.
Lorenzo sat beside him.
I stood near the window.
Dr. Reeves watched carefully.
Giovanni looked at his son.
Then whispered:
"Victor."
Lorenzo leaned closer.
"Victor Gable?"
Giovanni blinked.
Then whispered:
"Stole."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"Money?"
Giovanni blinked.
Then struggled.
"Sarah."
My heart stopped.
He looked toward me.
"Emma."
I began crying.
***
The statement was brief.
But it pointed investigators toward records that had been overlooked.
An old storage facility.
A safe-deposit box.
And a former accountant who had worked with Daniel Bennett.
***
The accountant was still alive.
His name was Thomas Reed.
He had retired years earlier.
When investigators contacted him, he agreed to cooperate.
He remembered Daniel.
He remembered the suspicious transactions.
And he remembered Victor Gable.
***
Thomas had kept copies of certain records because he feared the originals might disappear.
Those copies became crucial.
They showed that Daniel had raised concerns before his death.
They also showed transfers connected to the trust years later.
***
The authorities pursued the financial crimes.
The old warehouse fire was reviewed.
And the people involved began facing consequences.
***
Brody eventually admitted he had accepted money to obtain information about me and influence my employment decisions.
He claimed he hadn't understood the full purpose.
I didn't know whether to believe him.
But I no longer needed to.
***
When his attorney requested a meeting, I declined.
I sent a written statement through my lawyer.
I wanted no personal contact.
No apologies.
No explanations designed to make him feel better.
I wanted accountability.
And peace.
***
The trust was placed under independent administration.
A court-appointed professional reviewed the assets.
Improper transfers were challenged.
And arrangements were made to restore what legally belonged to me.
***
For the first time in months, I could breathe.
I wasn't rich.
Not suddenly.
Not magically.
But I had options.
I could afford an apartment.
Medical care.
A future for Lily.
***
One afternoon, I sat beside Giovanni.
He watched me.
I smiled.
"Looks like you saved me."
His eyes softened.
I took his hand.
"Thank you."
He struggled to speak.
Then whispered:
"You."
I frowned.
"Me?"
He blinked.
Then whispered:
"Saved."
My eyes filled.
***
I laughed through tears.
"We saved each other."
His fingers tightened around mine.
Just slightly.
But enough.
***
That evening, Lorenzo found me in the garden.
Spring had finally arrived.
The snow was gone.
Small flowers pushed through the soil.
I stood beneath a cherry tree, one hand resting on my belly.
He approached quietly.
"Emma."
I turned.
"Hi."
He smiled.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired."
He nodded.
"Understandable."
***
We stood together.
Then he said:
"I've been thinking."
I raised an eyebrow.
"That sounds dangerous."
He laughed.
"Sometimes."
I smiled.
"What about?"
He looked toward the mansion.
"My father."
"The company."
"My life."
I waited.
He continued.
"I spent years believing power meant never needing anyone."
I looked at him.
"And?"
He smiled sadly.
"I was wrong."
***
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Lorenzo looked at me.
"Emma."
My heart tightened.
"Yes?"
"I care about you."
I swallowed.
He continued.
"More than I expected."
I looked down.
He stepped closer.
"But I don't want you to feel obligated."
I raised my eyes.
He smiled gently.
"You've had enough people making decisions for you."
***
I stared at him.
Then whispered:
"I care about you too."
His expression changed.
Hope.
Surprise.
Something almost vulnerable.
***
He took a slow breath.
"May I kiss you?"
I smiled.
"Yes."
***
The kiss was gentle.
Careful.
Warm.
And completely different from anything I had known before.
There was no demand.
No pressure.
No promise designed to trap me.
Just affection.
Honest.
Quiet.
Real.
***
Over the following weeks, we moved slowly.
Lorenzo continued caring for Giovanni.
I prepared for Lily's arrival.
And together, we learned what it meant to build trust.
***
Then, one evening, my contractions began.
Three weeks early.
I was in Giovanni's room when the first sharp pain came.
I gripped the chair.
Giovanni's eyes widened.
"Emma?"
I stared.
Then whispered:
"Oh."
Another contraction came.
I gasped.
Giovanni made a strained sound.
He reached toward the call button.
His fingers trembled.
Then pressed it.
***
Within minutes, Lorenzo arrived.
He saw my face.
"Emma?"
I looked up.
"I think Lily's coming."
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For the first time since I met him, Lorenzo Moretti looked completely terrified.
END OF CHAPTER 4
