Chapter 4 - The Bride Who Had Already Refused
Peter was conscious when Clara reached the hospital.
Barely.
Luca was in another room under observation after being found disoriented near an abandoned loading facility. Neither man appeared willing to explain exactly how they had arrived there.
Dante stationed Adrian outside Peter's room.
Clara entered alone.
Peter opened his eyes.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“You fired me.”
“I was trying to get you away.”
“You sold my work first.”
He looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Clara pulled up a chair.
“Why?”
“Debt.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“To whom?”
“Northstar.”
She stared.
Peter swallowed.
“My firm expanded too quickly. We borrowed through an intermediary. I didn't know who controlled it.”
“Then they asked for my files.”
“Yes.”
“And you gave them.”
“Yes.”
Clara wanted to yell.
Instead, she asked, “Who took the ledger?”
“I don't know.”
“You were photographed with it.”
“Luca brought it.”
“Then?”
“Two men arrived.”
“Names.”
“I never saw them before.”
“What did they want?”
“The ledger.”
“Did they get it?”
Peter looked toward the door.
“No.”
Clara leaned closer.
“Where is it?”
“I gave it to someone.”
“Who?”
He smiled weakly.
“The last person they'd search.”
Clara knew immediately.
“Isabella?”
Peter shook his head.
“Her brother.”
Julian Romano.
Clara stood.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“Peter.”
“I swear.”
Dante entered.
He had apparently decided privacy had lasted long enough.
“Romano's son has the ledger?”
Peter looked frightened.
“Yes.”
“Does he know what it is?”
“No.”
“Then he's in danger.”
“Yes.”
Dante turned to leave.
Peter called after him.
“Moretti.”
Dante stopped.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Project Vesper has an internal partner.”
Dante's expression became stone.
“Inside my company?”
“Yes.”
“Name.”
“I don't know.”
“Convenient.”
“I know the initials.”
Clara waited.
Peter whispered, “D.M.”
Dante stared at him.
Clara felt the implication immediately.
Dante Moretti.
Someone had built records that could make him appear to be the architect.
The frame was deeper than they thought.
Outside the room, Isabella stood beside a window.
Dante approached.
“Where is Julian?”
She called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then a text appeared.
FROM JULIAN: STOP CALLING. DAD KNOWS.
Isabella went white.
Dante took the phone.
Another message.
I HAVE WHAT YOU GAVE LUCA.
Then:
I KNOW WHAT IT IS NOW.
Then nothing.
“Call your father,” Dante said.
Isabella hesitated.
“Do it.”
She called Vittorio Romano.
He answered immediately.
“Isabella.”
“Where is Julian?”
A pause.
“With me.”
“Put him on.”
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“Dad.”
“You've embarrassed this family enough.”
“This isn't about embarrassment.”
“It is always about family.”
Dante took the phone.
“Vittorio.”
Silence.
Then a colder voice.
“Dante.”
“Let Julian leave.”
“You have something that belongs to me.”
“No. Your son does.”
“Then perhaps you should convince him to return it.”
“Where?”
“Tomorrow. The original engagement dinner. Seven o'clock.”
Dante's eyes narrowed.
“You still expect this marriage to happen?”
Vittorio laughed softly.
“I expect the papers to be signed.”
Isabella whispered, “Never.”
Her father heard.
“Think carefully.”
“I already did.”
“You don't understand the consequences.”
“For the first time, I do.”
Vittorio's voice became colder.
“Then bring Clara Bennett.”
Clara looked up.
Dante's face darkened.
“She isn't part of this.”
“She became part of it when she opened the wrong file.”
The call ended.
Clara crossed her arms.
“Well.”
Dante looked at her.
“You're not going.”
“You keep saying things like that.”
“This isn't an audit anymore.”
“It was never an audit.”
“Exactly.”
“Which means somebody selected me deliberately.”
That silenced him.
Clara continued.
“Elena Ward wasn't real. Someone arranged for me to sit at your table at exactly the time Isabella was redirected.”
Isabella stared.
“You think the mistake was intentional?”
“Yes.”
Dante frowned.
“Why?”
“Maybe someone wanted me to find the trap.”
“Who?”
“That's what I intend to discover.”
The next morning, Clara returned to her apartment under security.
She hadn't slept.
Neither had Dante.
He sat at her kitchen counter in his black shirt with his jacket folded over a chair, looking absurdly out of place beside her chipped coffee mug.
Clara opened every record she possessed.
“There's one question we haven't asked.”
“What?”
“Why me?”
“You're good.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn't flattery.”
“I know.”
She typed.
“Plenty of analysts are good. Why route the audit to my firm? Why put me in that room?”
Dante watched her search.
“What makes you different?”
“Nothing.”
“I doubt that.”
She ignored him.
Then she found the original engagement email.
Elena Ward had specifically requested Clara Bennett.
Not the firm.
Her.
She searched older files.
Vesper.
Northstar.
Romano.
Moretti.
Then a name appeared in a document from eleven years earlier.
BENNETT, THOMAS — EXTERNAL CONTROLLER.
Clara stopped.
Dante noticed.
“Who is Thomas Bennett?”
“My father.”
Her voice sounded distant.
“He died twelve years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Dante moved beside her.
Clara opened the archived filing.
Her father had worked briefly as an external controller on a Moretti-Romano joint logistics project.
The dates matched the beginning of Project Vesper.
She felt cold.
“My father found something.”
Dante said nothing.
“He must have.”
She searched further.
One document contained a handwritten note scanned into the archive.
T.B. REFUSED AUTHORIZATION.
Another:
REPLACE CONTROLLER.
Then:
D.M. APPROVED.
Clara looked at Dante.
“You would have been twenty-six.”
“I wasn't running the company.”
“Who was?”
“My uncle.”
“Name?”
“Dominic Moretti.”
D.M.
The initials.
Dante's face changed.
“My uncle died five years ago.”
“Did he?”
Dante stared at her.
Clara realized what she had said.
“What do you mean?”
“His boat exploded.”
“Body?”
“No.”
Silence.
Dante stood.
Clara returned to the records.
Thomas Bennett.
Dominic Moretti.
Project Vesper.
The past had suddenly entered the room.
That evening they prepared for the meeting with Vittorio.
Isabella refused to sign.
Dante refused to surrender Clara.
Clara refused to stay behind.
At 6:42, they entered the private dining room where the engagement had originally been scheduled.
The roses had been replaced.
Fresh red ones.
The marriage agreement sat on the table.
At exactly seven, Vittorio Romano entered.
Julian was not with him.
Marcus Vale walked behind him.
Then a third man stepped through the doorway.
Dante stopped breathing.
Clara looked from the man's face to an old photograph on her tablet.
Same eyes.
Older face.
A scar along the jaw.
Dante whispered the name.
“Dominic.”
His supposedly dead uncle smiled.
May you like
Then he looked directly at Clara.
“You have your father's eyes.”
