Chapter 2 - The Wedding Guest List Contained the Names of the Men Who Had Helped Adrian Hide Millions—and I Realized His Fiancée Wasn't the Only Woman He Had Lied ToI studied the invitation for almost an hour.
The wedding was being held in Chicago.
A private estate.
Three hundred guests.
Security controlled by Adrian's personal team.
There would be politicians.
Business leaders.
Lawyers.
Celebrities.
And people whose names had only ever appeared in the darker corners of the files I'd copied.
Adrian had no idea how much I knew.
That was his mistake.
But something bothered me.
Valentina.
His pregnant fiancée.
I knew nothing about her.
That was unusual.
Adrian liked people predictable.
His mother had hated outsiders.
His family vetted everyone.
Yet Valentina had appeared suddenly.
Pregnant.
Engaged.
Wedding planned in less than two months.
I searched what I could.
Valentina Cross.
Thirty-one.
Socialite.
Philanthropist.
Former corporate attorney.
No criminal record.
No obvious connection to the Moretti empire.
I almost dismissed her.
Then I saw her father.
Marcus Cross.
I knew that name.
He appeared in the ledgers.
Not as a criminal.
As a consultant.
He had helped move money through offshore corporations.
But he had disappeared three years earlier.
Officially, a boating accident.
I stared at the photograph.
Valentina's eyes looked different.
Not softer.
Sharper.
I wondered if Adrian knew.
The next morning, I left the hospital with my daughter.
Her name was Ava.
I'd chosen it because it meant life.
She had spent most of her existence inside me.
Adrian would never understand how many nights I had spent talking to her before she was born.
“Your father is complicated,” I'd whispered to her.
“He might never know you.”
“But you don't need him.”
That was mostly true.
I rented a small townhouse under my middle name.
I hired a private attorney.
Not a Moretti-connected one.
An outsider.
Then I called the federal investigator whose name appeared beside several of Adrian's companies.
Agent Thomas Hale.
He answered on the third ring.
“Who is this?”
“Mia Carter.”
Silence.
Then:
“You need to stop calling.”
“I have evidence.”
“That isn't enough.”
“I have copies.”
Another pause.
“What kind?”
“Financial.”
“Against whom?”
“Adrian Moretti.”
Silence.
“Ms. Carter, whatever you think you have, you need to understand what you're dealing with.”
“I understand.”
“You don't.”
“I know where the money went.”
Silence.
“I know which companies were used.”
Nothing.
“I know which officials were paid.”
The line went quiet.
Then he said:
“Where are you?”
“I'll tell you in person.”
He agreed.
We met in a public place.
I brought a single folder.
He opened it.
His expression changed.
“You got this from Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My husband.”
He stared at me.
“Ex-husband.”
“You were married to him?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Four years.”
He looked at the DNA report.
“What's this?”
“My daughter.”
He looked at me.
“Moretti's?”
“Yes.”
“She was born when?”
“Today.”
His eyes widened.
“You just gave birth?”
“Yes.”
“And you're here?”
“I told you I had evidence.”
He almost smiled.
Then he looked at the financial documents.
“Where did you get the sworn statements?”
“I spoke to people before they disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“That could put you in danger.”
“I know.”
He leaned back.
“Why expose him now?”
I looked at him.
“Because he invited me to his wedding.”
Hale stared.
I smiled.
“He has no idea what I know.”
Agent Hale closed the folder.
“You're planning something.”
“No.”
“What are you planning?”
“I'm planning to attend a wedding.”
He looked at me for a long time.
Then he said:
“Don't do anything reckless.”
“I won't.”
“And keep the child away from the media.”
“I will.”
He nodded.
Then he asked:
“Do you trust Adrian?”
I smiled.
“No.”
“Do you hate him?”
That answer took longer.
“No.”
I looked down at Ava.
“I don't need to hate him.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm not trying to punish him.”
May you like
I closed the folder.
“I'm trying to make sure he can't hurt anyone else.”
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