Chapter 3 - Under the Moretti Roof
Clara hated the Moretti estate before she even entered it.
It was enormous.
That was the first problem.
The second was the armed security surrounding every gate.
The third was the fact that nobody seemed surprised when she arrived.
As though the house had been waiting for her.
Ethan escorted her through a pair of iron doors.
Clara looked around.
“This is ridiculous.”
“What?”
“This place.”
Ethan glanced around.
“It belongs to Luca.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
He almost smiled.
Inside, the mansion looked less like a criminal headquarters and more like a museum.
Dark wood.
Old paintings.
Marble floors.
A sweeping staircase.
Everything was expensive.
Nothing felt warm.
Clara crossed her arms.
“I am not staying here.”
“You were almost kidnapped.”
“I can go home.”
“Your apartment was attacked.”
“I can stay with Daniel.”
“They'll follow you there.”
She looked at him.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
“That answer is becoming really annoying.”
“It annoys me too.”
A voice echoed from the upper landing.
“He's right.”
Clara looked up.
Luca stood there.
Alive.
Clean.
Dressed in black trousers and a white shirt.
He was leaning against the railing as though he'd been waiting for her.
The sutured wound was covered beneath his shirt.
But he looked different.
Not weaker.
More controlled.
He descended the staircase slowly.
Clara watched every step.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“You look annoyingly healthy.”
His mouth curved slightly.
“You stitched me together.”
“I barely did anything.”
“You did enough.”
He stopped several feet away.
For the first time, Clara noticed the scar above his eyebrow.
The faint bruising along his jaw.
The fatigue around his eyes.
“You should be resting,” she said.
“I have been.”
“No, you haven't.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You know me very well for someone who told me to forget her.”
“I know what exhaustion looks like.”
“So do I.”
Clara looked away.
Luca motioned toward a nearby room.
“Come.”
“I can walk.”
“I didn't say you couldn't.”
They entered a study.
A fire burned low in the fireplace.
Luca poured himself water.
He did not offer her anything.
Clara appreciated that.
She remained standing.
“What do you want?”
“Your cooperation.”
“You're going to need to be more specific.”
He placed a folder on the desk.
“The men who attacked me worked for someone inside my organization.”
Clara said nothing.
“Six people died that night.”
“I heard.”
“One of them was supposed to meet me.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“The route I used was secret.”
“Okay.”
“Only four people knew it.”
Clara folded her arms.
“One of them betrayed you.”
“Yes.”
“Then find the four.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“One is dead.”
“Convenient.”
“One disappeared.”
“Also convenient.”
“One claims innocence.”
“And the fourth?”
Luca stared at her.
“Is someone I trust.”
Clara sighed.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because whoever betrayed me has access to my movements, my security, and my private communications.”
She understood.
“You don't know who to trust.”
“No.”
“And you think I can help.”
“I think you have one advantage.”
“What?”
“You are not afraid of me in the way my people are.”
Clara laughed.
“I'm absolutely afraid of you.”
“Not enough to lie to armed men.”
“That was different.”
“No. It wasn't.”
He moved closer.
“You saw a bleeding stranger and chose to help him.”
“You needed help.”
“Most people would have run.”
“I am a nurse.”
“You are Clara.”
She stopped.
He said her name like it meant something.
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
“What is?”
“You have no instinct for power.”
Clara stared.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“A compliment.”
She shook her head.
“You're strange.”
“So I've been told.”
Before she could respond, a woman entered the room.
Elegant.
Blonde.
Perfectly dressed.
She stopped when she saw Clara.
Her eyes flicked toward Luca.
“What's she doing here?”
Clara immediately disliked her.
Luca remained calm.
“She's staying.”
“For how long?”
“Until I say otherwise.”
The woman looked at Clara again.
“She doesn't belong here.”
Clara opened her mouth.
Luca spoke first.
“Victoria.”
The woman's expression softened.
“I'm only concerned.”
“So am I.”
Victoria smiled.
“Of course.”
Then she left.
Clara waited.
“Who is she?”
“My adviser.”
“She doesn't like me.”
“She doesn't like uncertainty.”
Clara stared at the closed door.
“I'd say that's mutual.”
Luca almost smiled.
Then his expression changed.
He walked to a locked cabinet and removed a small black box.
He set it on the table.
Inside was a necklace.
A simple silver pendant.
Clara's breath caught.
She knew it immediately.
It belonged to her mother.
She had lost it three years earlier.
“What is that?”
Luca looked at her.
“You're asking the wrong question.”
Clara stepped closer.
“Where did you get that?”
“From the man who attacked me.”
“Why would he have my mother's necklace?”
“I don't know.”
Clara's face drained.
“My mother never knew people like you.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Luca watched her carefully.
“What was her name?”
“Evelyn Hayes.”
His expression shifted.
Barely.
But Clara noticed.
“You know her.”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I recognized the name.”
“How?”
He did not answer.
“Luca.”
“I don't know why your mother's necklace was carried by one of my enemies.”
Clara picked it up.
Her fingers shook.
There was an engraving on the back.
E.H.
She looked at Luca.
“This isn't random.”
“No.”
“Then tell me everything.”
“I am trying.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You're choosing what to tell me.”
He was silent.
That was answer enough.
“You said I needed to know the truth.”
“You do.”
“Then start.”
He nodded.
“Your mother may have worked for someone connected to my family.”
Clara blinked.
“My mother cleaned offices.”
“Did she?”
“She was a single mother.”
“Clara.”
“My mother worked three jobs.”
“I believe you.”
“Then stop making her sound like some secret agent.”
Luca looked at her.
“I am not.”
“What are you hiding?”
He stared at the pendant.
“Twenty years ago, my father was investigating a woman who stole financial records from one of his competitors.”
Clara swallowed.
“Who?”
“Evelyn Hayes.”
The room went silent.
Clara's knees almost gave out.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“That is impossible.”
“She disappeared.”
“She died.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Luca looked toward the fire.
“My father was murdered eight years ago.”
Clara frowned.
“What does that have to do with my mother?”
“We don't know.”
“Then find out.”
He turned toward her.
“I will.”
She closed her hand around the pendant.
“What about the person who attacked you?”
“He had it.”
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Clara looked at him.
For the first time, she realized this was bigger than a gunshot.
Bigger than a crime family.
Bigger than the strange connection she had just discovered.
Her mother's life had contained secrets she had never known.
Luca moved closer.
“I am sorry.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Don't be.”
“Why?”
“Because for the first time in years, I'm starting to wonder if the person I thought my mother was ever existed.”
He said nothing.
She looked at him.
“I'll help you.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Why?”
“Because I want the truth.”
“And after?”
“I walk away.”
Luca nodded.
“Agreed.”
Neither of them noticed Victoria standing in the hallway.
Listening.
May you like
Watching.
And smiling.
