Chapter 6 - He Gave Up the Empire Before He Asked for Me
Alexander survived the gunshot.
The bullet passed through his shoulder without striking an artery, but he lost enough blood to spend the night under observation.
I did not stay beside his bed.
That surprised everyone.
Especially me.
For years, whenever Alexander was hurt, sick, exhausted, or angry, I had rearranged myself around him.
I had sat beside his bed after a knife wound he refused to explain.
I had waited outside closed meetings until three in the morning because he said he would only be another hour.
I had learned to make soup the way his mother used to because it was the only thing he wanted when he had the flu.
Love had trained me to become useful.
This time, I made sure the doctor said he was stable.
Then I went home with Julian.
The next morning, I received a message from Alexander.
I am alive. You do not need to come. I only wanted you to know.
I read it three times.
Then I put the phone down.
Julian watched me over his coffee.
"You want to go."
"No."
"That was not what I said."
I looked at him.
"Wanting something is not the same as it being good for me."
He nodded.
"That may be the smartest thing you have said since marrying him."
I threw a napkin at him.
For the first time in weeks, I laughed.
It hurt.
But it was still laughter.
By noon, the police had Sophia in protective custody.
The shooting at the gala had left her with nowhere else to go.
She agreed to cooperate in exchange for protection and consideration from prosecutors.
Her statement confirmed that Dominic had approached her two months before our anniversary.
He had known about her history with Alexander.
He had known how often she called him.
He had encouraged it.
The night of the avalanche, Dominic told Sophia there would be a confrontation between Alexander and several men on the upper trail. He said Claire could be caught in the middle and asked Sophia to invent an emergency that would bring Alexander down to the lodge.
Sophia admitted she did not ask why I was supposed to remain behind.
That detail stayed with me.
She did not know Dominic planned to trigger an avalanche.
But she knew she was separating a husband from his wife in dangerous weather.
She did it anyway.
Because she wanted proof that he would choose her.
And Alexander had given her that proof.
Again and again.
Dominic disappeared after the gala.
Three of his businesses emptied overnight.
Two longtime Moretti captains vanished with him.
Then a warehouse on the south side burned.
Alexander's organization began splitting down the middle.
Men who believed in Dominic's old ways accused Alexander of weakening the family.
Men loyal to Alexander wanted war.
For forty-eight hours, Chicago seemed to hold its breath.
Then Alexander did something no Moretti boss had ever done.
He called a meeting with federal prosecutors.
Julian heard about it before I did.
He walked into the sitting room holding his phone and stared at me.
"Your husband has apparently lost his mind."
"Ex-husband soon."
"Fine. Your soon-to-be ex-husband has apparently lost his mind."
I put down my book.
"What happened?"
"He offered evidence against Dominic. Financial records. Weapons shipments. Shell companies. Bribery ledgers."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because Dominic is hiding inside the organization. Alexander cannot eliminate him without starting a street war. So he is burning the organization instead."
My pulse quickened.
"What does that mean for Alexander?"
Julian's expression became serious.
"It means he is negotiating cooperation. He will have to surrender assets, testify, and expose people his family has protected for decades. He may face charges himself."
I stood.
"He would never do that."
"Apparently he would."
I knew Alexander.
Or I thought I did.
The Moretti name was not simply his business.
It was his inheritance.
His identity.
The thing his father had beaten into him before he was old enough to understand the word legacy.
Alexander had spent his entire life believing the family survived because Moretti men never surrendered power.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
"Claire?"
His voice was careful.
"Did you go to the federal building today?"
Silence.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Dominic tried to kill you."
"That is not an answer."
He sighed.
"Because I cannot protect you by becoming more of the thing that put you in danger."
I sat down slowly.
"Alexander-"
"I spent years telling myself I could control this world. I thought if I was powerful enough, no one could touch what was mine."
I flinched at the word.
He corrected himself immediately.
"The people I loved."
His voice lowered.
"But the mountain happened because of this family. The shooting happened because of this family. And my marriage ended because I kept behaving as though power excused absence."
I did not know what to say.
"Are you doing this to get me back?"
The question was cruel.
Necessary.
His answer came without hesitation.
"No."
I closed my eyes.
"I want you back," he continued. "More than I have ever wanted anything. But if you never come back, I still have to become someone who does not destroy the next person who loves him."
My throat tightened.
"What happens now?"
"The divorce becomes final in three weeks."
I had not meant us.
He knew that.
But he answered the part I was afraid to ask.
"I will not delay it."
I pressed my fingers against my eyes.
"And Dominic?"
"We find him. Legally, if possible."
"You saying legally is terrifying."
He laughed once.
A real laugh.
It nearly broke me.
Then he became serious.
"Claire, there is something else."
"What?"
"Sophia gave them a location where Dominic may have stored copies of his financial records. She says he kept them as insurance against me."
"Where?"
"An old lakeside property near Kenosha."
I knew the place.
The Moretti family had used it for summer parties years ago.
"Do not go there yourself."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Alexander went silent.
I cursed myself.
"I mean it," I said. "You were shot yesterday."
"I know."
"Send the police. Send federal agents. Send anyone with a badge."
His voice softened.
"Are you worried about me?"
I hated the hope inside that question.
"Yes."
He breathed in.
"That does not mean I am coming back."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"I am trying to."
That answer again.
Trying.
Not promising.
Not claiming.
Trying.
Alexander's cooperation did not remain private for long.
By the next morning, rumors moved through Chicago faster than official statements. Two Moretti-controlled trucking companies suspended operations. A construction firm announced an outside audit. Several men who had spent years bragging about loyalty suddenly hired criminal-defense attorneys.
Alexander also ordered something that confused everyone who knew him.
He froze his own access to three discretionary accounts and placed the legitimate companies under independent financial review.
"He is voluntarily giving strangers power over his money," Julian said, reading the notice.
"That may be harder for him than prison," I replied.
Julian looked at me.
"Probably."
A week earlier, I would have assumed every move was designed to impress me.
Now I asked Matteo to stop sending me updates unless they affected my safety.
If Alexander changed, I did not want to become the audience he performed for.
He needed to change in rooms where I was not watching.
That distinction became important.
Later, I learned he had met privately with the widow of a driver killed years earlier during an illegal shipment authorized by one of his captains. Alexander had not ordered the man's death, but the operation had belonged to the organization he controlled.
He paid restitution through attorneys and did not ask the widow to forgive him.
She did not.
He accepted that.
When Matteo told me, I said, "Do not tell me things like this unless I ask."
"Why?"
"Because if he is doing it for me, it will not last."
Matteo nodded slowly.
"And if he is not?"
I looked out the window.
"Then eventually I will see the difference without anyone needing to report it."
Two days later, federal agents raided the lakeside property.
They found the records.
They also found something else.
A locked room containing surveillance photographs.
Dozens of them.
Alexander entering restaurants.
Matteo leaving meetings.
Julian's house.
My clinic.
And photographs of me taken years before the avalanche.
Dominic had been watching us for a long time.
One photograph showed me leaving an obstetrician's office two weeks before our anniversary.
My blood turned cold.
"He knew," I whispered.
Julian stood beside me in the federal conference room.
"It appears he did."
"He knew I was pregnant."
The agent across from us nodded.
"We believe Mr. Moretti's uncle had access to medical information through an employee at the clinic."
I felt sick.
The avalanche had not only been designed to kill Alexander.
Dominic had known there was a potential heir.
A baby who would bind Alexander more tightly to the future Dominic was trying to control.
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
"Where is Alexander?"
Julian's phone rang at the same moment.
He answered.
His face went blank.
"What?"
I grabbed his arm.
"What happened?"
Julian listened for three seconds.
Then he looked at me.
"Dominic has Matteo."
My heart stopped.
"And he wants Alexander in exchange."
I reached for my coat.
Julian blocked me.
"No."
"He will go."
"Yes."
"Then I am going too."
"Absolutely not."
I looked my brother directly in the eyes.
"I am not asking."
May you like
For once, I sounded exactly like Alexander.
And thirty minutes later, I was in the back of an armored SUV heading toward the abandoned freight yard where Dominic Moretti intended to make his final stand.
