Chapter 2 - The Photograph Sent Before Sunrise
Dante moved before Elena understood what was happening.
He pushed her behind the bed and drew a handgun from the drawer beside him.
The guards raised their weapons.
His mother backed into the hallway.
The closet door opened another inch.
"Come out," Dante ordered.
Nothing.
Elena's heart hammered against her ribs.
One guard approached from the left.
Another from the right.
Dante's eyes never moved from the darkness.
The door swung fully open.
Empty.
No person.
No weapon.
Only suits hanging in perfect rows.
Dante walked forward carefully.
Then looked upward.
A small camera had been mounted behind the molding.
One of the guards cursed.
The device pointed directly toward the bed.
Elena felt sick.
"How long has that been there?"
Dante ripped the camera from the wall.
"Not long."
"How do you know?"
"I renovated this room six months ago."
His mother stepped back inside.
"Who had access?"
"Family. Security. Three contractors."
"And Elena's event crew?"
Dante looked at Elena.
She understood immediately.
"Nobody from my team entered this room."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Your staff had access to the third floor."
"For decorations in the gallery. Not here."
Dante handed the camera to his guard.
"Trace transmission."
Elena moved toward her phone.
The live stream had ended.
But the damage hadn't.
Notifications exploded across her screen.
Calls.
Messages.
News alerts.
Her name was already everywhere.
EVENT PLANNER REVEALED AS DANTE MORETTI'S SECRET FIANCÉE.
WHO IS THE MYSTERY WOMAN IN MORETTI'S BED?
PRIVATE ROMANCE EXPOSED AT MORETTI GALA.
Elena covered her face.
"This cannot be happening."
Dante stood beside her.
"It is."
"Thank you. Very helpful."
His mother said, "You should announce the engagement."
Elena's head snapped up.
"I should what?"
The older woman remained perfectly composed.
"If the public believes you are Dante's fiancée, you become difficult to attack openly."
Elena laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"Your solution to people thinking I'm engaged to a mafia boss is for me to become publicly engaged to the mafia boss?"
Dante looked irritated.
"I'm not a mafia boss."
His mother raised an eyebrow.
Elena stared at him.
"That's the part you're correcting?"
Dante took the camera device from the guard again.
"Temporary engagement."
"No."
"Forty-eight hours."
"No."
"Until I identify the leak."
"No."
"Elena."
She stepped closer.
"Mr. Moretti, I plan weddings for a living. I don't accidentally become the bride."
That line silenced even his mother.
Then Dante asked:
"Do you live alone?"
Elena's expression changed.
He saw the answer.
"Your address was in the staff manifest."
She froze.
Her apartment.
Her office.
Her younger brother sometimes stayed there when visiting.
"My brother."
"Where is he?"
"Boston."
"Anyone else?"
"My assistant. Tessa has keys to my office."
Dante looked toward his guard.
"Find her."
Elena grabbed his sleeve.
"Don't scare her."
The guard paused.
Dante glanced down at Elena's hand on his arm.
She released it.
"Please."
His voice softened fractionally.
"We won't."
Forty minutes later, Elena stood inside the Moretti library wearing a borrowed black dress while reporters screamed questions beyond the gates.
Dante had changed into a charcoal suit.
He looked completely unaffected.
Elena hated him for it.
His mother, Sofia Moretti, sat nearby making phone calls with the efficiency of a military commander.
Elena's employees had been escorted safely home through an underground parking entrance.
Tessa was safe.
Her brother was safe.
That should have helped.
It didn't.
Because somebody had sent another photograph.
This one showed Elena entering her own apartment building two days earlier.
Taken from across the street.
They had been watching her before the gala.
That changed everything.
"Why?" Elena asked.
Dante looked up.
"Why what?"
"They were watching me before I entered your bedroom."
He didn't answer.
"That means this didn't start because I accidentally fell asleep beside you."
"No."
"So why me?"
Sofia stopped speaking on the phone.
Dante walked toward the window.
Elena followed.
"You know something."
"I'm considering possibilities."
"Try considering them out loud."
His jaw tightened.
"Your company was hired six weeks ago."
"Yes."
"Who recommended you?"
"The Moretti Foundation board."
"Specifically."
Elena thought.
"Isabella Vescari."
Dante turned.
Silence.
Sofia slowly lowered her phone.
Elena looked between them.
"What?"
Dante's voice became quiet.
"Say that name again."
"Isabella Vescari."
Sofia stood.
"Matteo's daughter."
Elena felt the room tilt.
"The man accused of killing your father?"
Dante nodded.
"But Isabella is a philanthropist. She sits on three nonprofit boards."
"People change their titles," Sofia said. "Not always their loyalties."
Elena suddenly remembered something.
"She specifically requested my company."
Dante approached.
"What exactly did she say?"
"That she'd seen my work at the Harlow wedding."
"Anything else?"
Elena searched her memory.
"She asked if I personally supervised overnight teardown."
Dante's expression darkened.
"She knew you'd stay late."
"Apparently."
"And she got you inside this house."
Elena wrapped her arms around herself.
"So someone planned for me to be here."
"Possibly."
"But they couldn't plan for me to fall asleep in your bedroom."
"No."
Dante looked at the pendant.
"Unless they only needed you somewhere in the mansion."
Elena frowned.
"What for?"
Before Dante answered, Sofia spoke.
"Because everyone searches the obvious suspect."
Elena looked at her.
"What does that mean?"
"If something had been planted inside Dante's room during an event, who would security investigate?"
"The event staff."
"Exactly."
Elena felt anger rising.
"I was supposed to take the blame."
"Maybe."
Dante's phone rang.
He answered.
"Marco."
A pause.
His expression changed.
"Where?"
Another pause.
"Don't touch anything."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" Elena asked.
"The camera transmitter was registered remotely through a device found in the ballroom."
"Whose device?"
Dante looked at her.
"Yours."
Elena stared.
"No."
"Your event tablet."
"That's impossible."
"Someone installed software on it."
She remembered leaving the tablet unattended backstage several times.
Hundreds of people had passed through.
"So somebody used my equipment to spy on you."
"Yes."
"And now every piece of evidence points toward me."
"Yes."
Elena laughed bitterly.
"Fantastic."
Dante studied her.
"You aren't reacting like someone worried I'll suspect her."
"I'm too tired to care."
"You should care."
"Do you suspect me?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Elena blinked.
"Why not?"
"Because you woke up terrified."
"Excellent investigative technique."
"And because whoever planned this wants me to suspect you."
He stepped closer.
"I dislike being told what to believe."
Their eyes met.
For a second, the room seemed quieter.
Then Sofia cleared her throat deliberately.
Elena looked away.
A security man entered.
"Sir. Reporters are refusing to leave."
Dante nodded.
"Set up a statement."
Elena turned.
"What are you doing?"
"Buying time."
"Dante."
"You don't have to speak."
"That's not the issue."
"It is now."
Twenty minutes later, Elena stood behind velvet curtains in the mansion's grand foyer.
Beyond the doors waited cameras.
Dozens.
Dante stood beside her.
"All you need to do is stand there."
"This is insane."
"Yes."
"Your mother really likes me for this fake engagement."
"She likes strategic solutions."
"That's a terrifying way to describe a mother."
Dante almost smiled again.
Elena noticed.
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Almost being human."
The doors opened.
Camera flashes exploded.
Reporters shouted.
"Dante! Is the engagement real?"
"Elena, when is the wedding?"
"How long have you been together?"
"Was last night's gala secretly an engagement celebration?"
Dante raised one hand.
Silence gradually formed.
"Miss Brooks has been placed in an unfair position because of private images obtained illegally."
Elena looked at him.
His voice sharpened.
"Anyone publishing stolen images from inside my private residence will hear from my attorneys."
A reporter shouted:
"But is she your fiancée?"
Dante paused.
Elena's stomach tightened.
Then he looked directly at her.
Not at the press.
At her.
His expression asked a question.
For all his authority, he was giving her the choice.
Elena thought of the photograph outside her apartment.
The camera in the bedroom.
The pendant.
Isabella Vescari.
Someone had chosen her long before this morning.
She gave the smallest nod.
Dante turned toward the cameras.
"Yes."
Chaos erupted.
Questions flew.
Elena stayed perfectly still.
Dante reached for her hand.
His fingers closed around hers.
Warm.
Steady.
Protective.
Then one reporter shouted above the others.
"Mr. Moretti, does this mean the Vescari arrangement is canceled?"
Dante froze.
Sofia froze.
Elena slowly turned toward him.
"What Vescari arrangement?"
The reporter shouted again.
"Your expected marriage to Isabella Vescari!"
Elena's hand slipped from Dante's.
Cameras flashed faster.
Isabella.
The woman who had hired her.
The daughter of the man accused of killing Dante's father.
And apparently the woman everyone expected Dante to marry.
Dante's face became unreadable.
They returned inside without another word.
The moment the doors closed, Elena turned on him.
"You forgot to mention your other fiancée."
"She's not my fiancée."
"The press seems confused."
"Families discussed an alliance."
"An alliance?"
"Business."
"With marriage?"
"It's complicated."
"No. Tax law is complicated. Accidentally pretending to be engaged to a man who may have been negotiating marriage with the woman who potentially framed me is something else."
Sofia approached.
"Elena—"
"No offense, Mrs. Moretti, but your family desperately needs a normal group chat."
Sofia stared.
Then unexpectedly laughed.
Dante looked offended.
Elena pointed at him.
"And you. Start talking."
Dante loosened his tie.
"The Vescari family approached us six months ago. Isabella proposed merging several legitimate business interests."
"And marriage?"
"Her uncle proposed it."
"You considered it?"
"I considered the business."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only one you're getting."
Elena rolled her eyes.
"Then this fake engagement is over."
She started toward the hall.
Dante caught her wrist gently.
"Your safety isn't."
She stopped.
His grip loosened immediately.
"You said forty-eight hours."
"I said until I identify who is behind this."
"Same difference."
"No."
Something about his voice made her look at him.
There was concern there.
Real concern.
Not ownership.
Not strategy.
Fear.
For her.
A guard entered carrying Elena's event tablet inside an evidence bag.
"We found another file."
Dante released her.
"What kind?"
"Video."
Elena's stomach tightened.
The guard set a laptop on the table.
"This was automatically downloaded onto Miss Brooks's tablet at 2:58 a.m."
"Before I entered the bedroom," Elena said.
The guard nodded.
He pressed play.
Dark security footage appeared.
A hallway.
The third floor.
Time stamp: 2:54 a.m.
A woman walked into frame.
Elegant.
Silver gown.
Elena recognized her instantly.
"Isabella."
Dante leaned toward the screen.
Isabella approached his bedroom door.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then lifted something.
The silver pendant.
Elena felt the air leave her lungs.
Isabella entered Dante's bedroom.
Four minutes later, she emerged without the pendant.
Dante stared at the screen.
Sofia whispered:
"Why would she deliberately let herself be recorded?"
Elena understood first.
"Because she wanted us to see."
Dante looked at her.
The video continued.
Isabella stopped before leaving the frame.
She held up a folded card.
Four words were written across it.
DANTE, ASK YOUR MOTHER.
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Dante slowly turned toward Sofia.
"What am I supposed to ask you?"
His mother's face had gone white.
"Sofia," Elena whispered.
The older woman's lips trembled.
"Dante..."
A knock came from the library door.
Three slow knocks.
Every guard reached for a weapon.
Then a woman's voice came from the other side.
A voice Elena recognized from countless planning calls.
"Mr. Moretti?"
May you like
Isabella Vescari had arrived.
And she was asking to speak to Elena alone.
