Chapter 5 - The Kiss That Started a WarVincent Moretti expected Deari to retaliate.
He did not expect Deari to invite him to dinner.
Three nights after Tommy's rescue, envelopes arrived at Moretti properties across New York.
Black paper.
White lettering.
DINNER.
HAMILTON HOUSE.
8 P.M.
COME IF YOU'RE STILL INTERESTED IN TALKING.
Luigi read the card.
“This is either brilliant or stupid.”
“Those are frequently the same thing.”
“Are you planning to kill him?”
“No.”
Luigi seemed disappointed.
“What are you planning?”
“Dinner.”
“With the man who helped kidnap your secretary's brother.”
Deari looked up.
“You're saying ‘your secretary’ strangely.”
Luigi grinned.
“Am I?”
Deari threw a pen at him.
Luigi caught it.
Meanwhile, Caitlyn had temporarily moved into a secure guest suite at Hamilton House.
She hated everything about it.
The mansion had seventeen bedrooms.
A ballroom nobody used.
An underground shooting range.
Three kitchens.
And approximately one armed man for every decorative plant.
“You live like a Bond villain,” Caitlyn said.
Deari looked up from breakfast.
“I don't know what that means.”
“It means your house has a panic room inside another panic room.”
“Practical.”
“It means there's a helicopter pad.”
“Also practical.”
“It means your wine cellar has bulletproof doors.”
“That was my father's choice.”
Caitlyn buttered toast.
“Did your father expect Burgundy to revolt?”
Deari almost smiled.
Tommy had been moved to a temporary private facility under Hamilton security.
Caitlyn visited daily.
She had reluctantly accepted Deari's protection after Owen remained missing.
What she had not accepted was Deari becoming increasingly present in her life.
He ate breakfast when she did.
He moved evening meetings home.
He asked questions about Tommy.
He occasionally appeared outside the library while Caitlyn read, claimed he needed a book, then chose nothing and left.
It would have been less confusing if he had simply kissed her at the hospital.
He almost had.
Instead, they hovered around something unnamed.
Danger made everything worse.
Or perhaps clearer.
That afternoon Caitlyn entered Deari's study.
He was adjusting cuff links.
Black suit.
White shirt.
No tie.
She stopped.
“Moretti is coming here?”
“Yes.”
“You're insane.”
“Frequently alleged.”
“He kidnapped Tommy.”
“Owen kidnapped Tommy.”
“With Moretti money.”
“Yes.”
“And you're feeding him?”
Deari looked at her.
“Negotiations are more effective when everyone has eaten.”
“Is that in a mafia handbook?”
“No. Common sense.”
Caitlyn folded her arms.
“What are you negotiating?”
Deari did not answer.
Her eyes narrowed.
“The companies you signed over.”
“Yes.”
“You're trying to get them back.”
“No.”
She blinked.
“Then what?”
“I'm ending the war.”
Caitlyn stared.
“You can do that?”
“Possibly.”
“Why now?”
Deari looked toward the window.
His answer was quiet.
“Because I don't want another Tommy.”
Caitlyn's expression softened.
Deari continued.
“My father believed peace made men weak. Every five years he started a new conflict so everyone remembered his name.”
“He sounds lovely.”
“He wasn't.”
“What changed for you?”
Deari looked at her.
She already knew.
He didn't say it.
Caitlyn sighed.
“Still a coward.”
Deari smiled faintly.
Dinner began at eight.
Vincent Moretti arrived with four men.
Tall.
Silver at his temples.
Expensive charm.
The kind of man who could smile while ordering a funeral.
Caitlyn watched from an upstairs security room despite being ordered to remain uninvolved.
Luigi entered.
“Thought I'd find you here.”
“I work for him.”
“Currently you're being paid to hide.”
“I hate that.”
“I know.”
On the monitor, Deari and Vincent sat across from each other.
Vincent lifted wine.
“To surprising invitations.”
Deari did not drink.
“To ending unnecessary expenses.”
Vincent smiled.
“You mean war.”
“I mean stupidity.”
“Careful.”
Deari leaned back.
“You attacked a storefront because you wanted attention.”
“It worked.”
“You partnered with Owen.”
Vincent's smile faded slightly.
“I partner with opportunities.”
“Owen is a liability.”
“Your liability.”
“He kidnapped a civilian.”
“Not my order.”
Deari watched carefully.
Caitlyn did too.
Vincent appeared sincere.
That was unexpected.
Deari placed documents on the table.
“I'll honor the transfer of Lenox Freight.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
“And the others?”
“Returned.”
“You're negotiating from weakness.”
“No.”
Deari smiled.
“I'm offering you twenty-eight million dollars annually in legitimate revenue to walk away from the illegal routes.”
Vincent laughed.
“You want me clean?”
“I want you predictable.”
“Why?”
“Because chaos is expensive.”
Vincent studied him.
“You really have changed.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“The secretary?”
Deari's face went blank.
Upstairs, Caitlyn stopped breathing.
Vincent smiled.
“Pretty girl.”
Deari did not move.
“Do not discuss her.”
“And there it is.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“For years I wondered what would finally put a leash on Deari Hamilton.”
Deari's voice became soft.
“You think she controls me?”
“I think she makes you controllable.”
“No.”
Deari's eyes darkened.
“She makes me question whether any of this is worth controlling.”
Vincent's smile disappeared.
Upstairs, Caitlyn felt those words physically.
Luigi looked at her.
She did not move.
Deari continued.
“You want Lenox Freight?”
“Yes.”
“Take it.”
“And the Queens property.”
“No.”
“Harbor East?”
“No.”
Vincent laughed.
“Then we have a problem.”
Deari shrugged.
“You have a problem.”
“What does that mean?”
Deari slid a second folder across the table.
Vincent opened it.
His expression changed.
Bank transfers.
Judges.
Offshore accounts.
Illegal gambling.
Owen's records.
Deari had spent three days dismantling the financial trail.
“If I die,” Deari said, “that goes federal.”
Vincent stared.
“If Caitlyn is harmed, it goes federal.”
Caitlyn closed her eyes upstairs.
“If Tommy is touched, it goes federal.”
Deari leaned forward.
“If Luigi gets indigestion and I feel suspicious, it goes federal.”
Luigi looked offended.
Caitlyn almost laughed.
Vincent closed the folder.
“You're blackmailing me into peace.”
“I'm offering you an excellent logistics company.”
Silence.
Then Vincent laughed.
“You really are your father's opposite.”
Deari's jaw tightened.
“Don't compare us.”
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
Interesting.
He signed.
Peace did not arrive instantly.
But the first wall came down.
Vincent left just before midnight.
Caitlyn waited in the library.
Deari entered.
He stopped when he saw her.
“You watched.”
“Yes.”
“I told you—”
“You said I make you question whether any of this is worth controlling.”
Deari stared.
Caitlyn stood.
“Was that strategic?”
“No.”
“Manipulation?”
“No.”
“A lie?”
Deari's pulse changed.
“No.”
She approached.
He did not move.
“What happens now?”
“With Moretti?”
“With us.”
Deari's jaw tightened.
“I don't know.”
“Why?”
“Because you work for me.”
“I can quit.”
His expression darkened immediately.
“No.”
Caitlyn blinked.
Deari realized how that sounded.
“I mean—”
She smiled.
“Interesting.”
“I can transfer you.”
“To whom?”
Deari thought.
Nobody.
The idea of Caitlyn working closely with another executive caused an irrational reaction.
She saw it.
“Still interesting.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Enjoying this.”
Caitlyn moved closer.
“You frighten everyone.”
“Yes.”
“You threatened a crime boss over Luigi's indigestion.”
“It was rhetorical.”
“And somehow you're terrified of this conversation.”
Deari looked at her.
“Yes.”
The honesty stopped her.
He continued.
“If I start something with you, everyone who wants to hurt me gains your name.”
“They already have it.”
“If I touch you, I don't know how to make it casual.”
Caitlyn's breath caught.
Deari's voice dropped.
“I don't want casual.”
There.
Finally.
One honest sentence.
Caitlyn reached up and touched his jaw.
Deari went completely still.
“You're allowed to touch me,” he whispered.
“I was hoping.”
Then she kissed him.
Softly.
Deari did not respond for half a second.
Not because he did not want it.
Because nobody initiated intimacy with him.
Nobody reached first.
Then his hand moved to her waist.
He pulled her closer.
The second kiss was nothing like the first.
Years of control fractured.
Caitlyn's fingers gripped his shirt.
Deari kissed her like he had been starving and only just realized it.
Then he stopped.
Abruptly.
He rested his forehead against hers.
“Tell me to stop.”
“I don't want you to.”
“Caitlyn.”
“I know what you're asking.”
She looked at him.
“And I don't want you to stop.”
He kissed her again.
Upstairs in a room nobody knew contained an active surveillance feed, Owen Vale watched through a compromised security camera.
His jaw tightened.
Moretti had accepted peace.
That ruined everything.
Owen's fortune depended on conflict.
Hamilton against Moretti.
Shipping disruptions.
Emergency contracts.
Insurance fraud.
Weapons movement hidden inside legitimate retaliation.
Peace would expose years of manipulated transactions.
He picked up a phone.
A man answered.
“Owen?”
“Moretti is out.”
“What?”
“Hamilton bought him.”
“Then what now?”
Owen watched Deari and Caitlyn separate.
A cold smile formed.
“We stop targeting the secretary.”
“What do we target?”
Owen enlarged another surveillance image.
May you like
Deari.
“We make her believe Hamilton killed her parents.”
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