Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
The drive back toward Long Island was made in complete silence.
Lily fell asleep in the back seat, her thumb tucked into her mouth, her stuffed rabbit resting against her chest. I watched her in the rearview mirror every few seconds, every glance burning the reality of her presence deeper into my mind.
She had my mother’s dark, arched eyebrows. She had the faint cleft in her chin that every Moretti male had carried for four generations. How had I been so blind? How had I looked at this child every day for three years and seen only the quiet daughter of my housekeeper?
Because you believed the people who swore loyalty to you, a bitter voice inside my head answered.
I parked the sedan at a public marina three miles from my estate. Sitting in the slip was a forty-foot commercial boat registered to a private fishing charter—a vessel owned by a man named Mateo Vance, Dr. Vance’s estranged younger brother, who owed his life to my father twenty years ago.
Mateo was waiting on the deck, wearing a grease-stained jacket. He didn't ask questions when I handed Lily to him, along with a stack of hundred-dollar bills and Maya’s private security contact.
“Keep her below deck,” I instructed Mateo, looking him dead in the eye. “No one enters this boat. If anyone approaches who isn't Maya Reyes, you take this boat out into the sound immediately.”
“On my life, Adrian,” Mateo said grimly, nodding once.
I knelt down in front of Lily before they took her below. I smoothed her soft curls away from her forehead.
“I have to go back to the house for a little while, Lily,” I told her, keeping my voice calm and gentle.
“Are you going to fix things?” she asked, clutching her rabbit.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to fix everything.”
“Mommy said you would.”
I kissed her cheek, stood up, and walked back to the sedan.
By eleven o’clock in the morning, I pulled up the long, winding gravel driveway of the Moretti estate. The rain had cleared into a dark, gloomy mist that hung low over the oak trees.
Standing near the main entrance was Vincent.
He wore his customary black tactical jacket, his radio strapped to his chest, his face set in a cold frown as my sedan came to a stop in the courtyard.
I stepped out of the car, leaving my coat unbuttoned.
“Where the hell have you been, Adrian?” Vincent demanded, walking quickly toward me with two security guards trailing ten paces behind him. “Your personal phone was sitting on your desk. The perimeter alarms showed an unregistered vehicle leaving through the east garage two hours ago. We’ve been sweeping the grounds thinking there was a breach!”
I looked at my cousin.
We had grown up in this house together. We had bled in the same alleys when our families fought for control of the docks fifteen years ago. I had trusted him with my life a thousand times over.
Looking at him now, I didn't see a brother. I saw a venomous snake resting in my own home.
“I needed some air, Vincent,” I said smoothly, keeping my hands tucked loosely into my trousers pockets. “After the funeral yesterday, the house felt small.”
Vincent paused, his sharp eyes narrowing as he scanned my face, searching for any sign of deception.
“You took an unlisted car without a security detail,” Vincent noted, his voice dropping into a stern, reprimanding tone. “With the Romano deal closing this week, Marco’s people are everywhere. It’s not safe for you to wander around alone.”
“I’m never alone, Vincent,” I replied, stepping past him toward the front doors. “Where is Vanessa?”
“She just arrived from Manhattan,” Vincent said, turning to follow me into the grand foyer. “Her father sent her back with the final signature papers for the harbor trust. She’s upstairs in the drawing room waiting for you.”
“Good,” I said, pausing at the foot of the grand marble staircase. “Call Dr. Vance. Tell him I want a full medical review of my estate papers before I sign the Romano agreement at dinner tonight.”
Vincent blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Dr. Vance? Is something wrong with your health?”
“No,” I said, turning my head to look Vincent directly in the eyes. “I just want to make sure everything in my record is completely accurate before I sign my life away.”
A microscopic flicker of tension crossed Vincent’s jaw, so faint that no one else would have noticed it. But I had watched this man for thirty years. I knew every tell he possessed.
“I’ll call him immediately,” Vincent said smoothly, reaching for his radio.
“Do that,” I said.
I turned and walked up the staircase, my dress shoes clicking rhythmically against the white stone.
May you like
With every step I took toward the drawing room, the quiet rage inside me distilled into a cold, lethal weapon. They thought they had built a perfect trap around me. They thought I was a grieving, lonely man ready to surrender his empire to his fiancée and his loyal cousin.
They had no idea that the prey had just stepped out of the cage—and was hunting the traitors in his own house.
