Chapter 7 - The Recording That Destroyed a FamilyVittorio Moretti’s recording lasted thirty-eight minutes.
It contained enough evidence to destroy Enzo.
Not merely financially.
Criminally.
On the audio, Vittorio confronted his brother about the missing charity funds.
Enzo admitted using St. Catherine accounts to hide payments.
Vittorio threatened to report him.
Enzo responded with words that would later be replayed dozens of times by prosecutors.
“You think blood protects you from consequences?”
Vittorio answered, “No. I think you’ve mistaken blood for permission.”
Then Enzo threatened Gabriel.
Not directly.
Not openly.
But clearly enough.
Vittorio ended the conversation minutes later.
The next evening, his car left the road.
Marcus Hale’s confession completed the chain.
Enzo had ordered the brake line damaged.
Marcus claimed he had been told it was meant only to frighten Vittorio.
Investigators did not believe that distinction mattered much.
The warrant for Enzo Moretti’s arrest was prepared before noon.
But Enzo disappeared.
His Chicago residence was empty.
His phone had been abandoned.
A private aircraft connected to one of his companies was fueled at a small airfield near Indiana.
Gabriel stood in the security room while agents coordinated searches.
Rebecca entered carrying coffee.
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“I slept forty minutes.”
“Luxury.”
She handed him the cup.
Gabriel looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Rebecca leaned against the desk.
“What happens when they find him?”
“He gets arrested.”
“That simple?”
“No.”
She nodded.
Gabriel continued.
“There will be a trial. Lawyers. Delays. People who owe him favors.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“What are you going to do?”
Gabriel looked at the monitors.
Rebecca waited.
Finally he said, “I don’t know.”
She understood the question he was avoiding.
What happened to a mafia empire after its leader discovered his father wanted it changed?
Gabriel’s legitimate holdings employed thousands.
Hotels.
Construction.
Shipping.
Real estate.
But there were other businesses too.
Cash businesses.
Protection arrangements.
Men who solved problems outside courtrooms.
Systems built long before Gabriel inherited them.
Rebecca knew enough not to pretend otherwise.
“You could leave.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Leave what?”
“That part of it.”
He smiled without humor.
“You think criminal organizations accept resignations?”
“I didn’t say it would be easy.”
“You make everything sound simple.”
“No.”
Rebecca looked toward the photograph of Vittorio on the wall.
“I make it sound possible.”
Three days later, the press arrived at Rebecca’s aunt’s apartment.
Reporters surrounded the sidewalk.
Rebecca had returned with Margaret to collect personal belongings.
As they exited, microphones appeared.
“Rebecca!”
“Were you romantically involved with Gabriel Moretti before Daniel Mercer’s arrest?”
“Did Mr. Moretti pay you?”
“Are you cooperating with federal investigators?”
“Did you fabricate the assault?”
Rebecca stopped.
Margaret grabbed her hand.
“You don’t owe them anything.”
Rebecca knew.
But she was tired of allowing other people to tell her story.
She turned toward the cameras.
“No.”
The reporters quieted.
Rebecca looked directly into the nearest lens.
“I was not paid.”
Cameras flashed.
“I was not having an affair with Gabriel Moretti.”
More flashes.
“And I did not fabricate being assaulted and locked in a cellar.”
Someone shouted, “Why should the public believe you?”
Rebecca looked toward the reporter.
“Because evidence doesn’t care whether you respect my job.”
Silence.
“I cleaned houses.”
Her voice remained steady.
“I changed sheets. Scrubbed floors. Washed wine glasses people left on tables without ever learning my name.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
Rebecca continued.
“That did not make me stupid.”
Gabriel was watching from the estate on television.
Adrien stood beside him.
Rebecca said, “When I saw my signature on documents I never signed, I noticed. When I photographed those documents, someone decided I was dangerous.”
A reporter interrupted.
“Who?”
Rebecca answered, “Ask Daniel Mercer.”
Another voice called, “And Gabriel Moretti?”
Rebecca paused.
The press leaned closer.
“What is your relationship with him?”
Rebecca thought about the cellar door opening.
The phone placed on the floor between them.
The written agreement allowing her to leave.
The arguments.
The library.
The church.
Gabriel waiting for permission before touching her.
“He answered a message that wasn’t meant for him.”
Several reporters looked confused.
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“And then he believed me.”
She walked away.
That night, Gabriel was waiting beside the guest house.
Rebecca stopped.
“You saw it.”
“The whole city saw it.”
“Was I terrible?”
“You terrified several board members.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
Then neither spoke.
The lake moved quietly beyond them.
Rebecca finally asked, “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to know if you were okay.”
“I am.”
“Are you?”
She considered lying.
Instead she said, “No.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Me neither.”
They sat on the porch steps.
For several minutes, there was silence.
Rebecca looked at his hands.
“No gun tonight?”
“It’s there.”
“Of course.”
He looked at her.
“Does that bother you?”
“Sometimes.”
Gabriel accepted that.
She appreciated it.
“Gabriel.”
“Yes?”
“What happens after this?”
“With Enzo?”
“With us.”
The word surprised both of them.
Gabriel’s eyes met hers.
Rebecca looked away first.
“I don’t mean…”
“I know.”
“No, you probably don’t.”
“Probably not.”
She laughed nervously.
Gabriel became serious.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know.”
“I helped you because you needed help.”
“I know.”
“Not because I expected—”
“Gabriel.”
He stopped.
Rebecca looked at him.
“You talk a lot when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re Gabriel Moretti. Obviously.”
His mouth twitched.
Rebecca continued.
“I don’t know what this is.”
“Neither do I.”
“But I know I don’t want to become somebody’s possession again.”
“You won’t.”
“You can’t promise that for me.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
Rebecca inhaled.
“And if something ever happens between us, I need to know I can disagree with you.”
“You already disagree with me constantly.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She looked at him.
“I need doors I can open.”
His expression softened.
“You’ll have them.”
“And choices.”
“Yes.”
“And no security guard outside the bathroom.”
“That happened once.”
“It was ridiculous.”
“You had received a death threat.”
“I was brushing my teeth.”
Gabriel smiled.
Rebecca did too.
Then the smiles faded.
They were sitting close.
Close enough that Rebecca could hear his breathing.
Gabriel did not move.
He left the distance between them entirely hers.
Rebecca understood what he was doing.
And what he was refusing to do.
So she made the choice herself.
She leaned forward and kissed him.
It was brief.
Gentle.
Nothing like the violent, consuming romances people wrote about men like Gabriel Moretti.
He did not grab her.
He did not pull her closer.
He simply kissed her back.
When Rebecca moved away, Gabriel looked stunned.
She smiled.
“Now you look nervous.”
Before he could answer, Adrien came running from the main house.
Gabriel stood.
“What?”
Adrien held up his phone.
“We found Enzo.”
“Where?”
Adrien looked at Rebecca.
“At Daniel Mercer’s old apartment.”
Rebecca frowned.
“Why would he go there?”
Adrien’s expression became grim.
“Because Daniel left something behind.”
“The server?”
“No.”
Adrien turned the screen.
May you like
A surveillance photograph showed Enzo carrying a metal case.
“The original black ledger.”
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