Chapter 6 - The Shadows of Milan
Three weeks had passed since the night of the arrests.
The story of the Moretti family had dominated national news headlines for days. The arrest of high-profile corporate attorney Vivian Lock and prominent pediatrician Dr. Miles Harlon had sent shockwaves through New York’s elite financial and medical circles. The grand jury had returned a multi-count indictment including First-Degree Murder, Attempted Murder, Child Endangerment, and Financial Fraud.
Inside the Moretti mansion, the heavy, oppressive atmosphere that had hung over the estate for two years was rapidly dissolving.
The windows, which had remained curtained and dark for months, were now thrown wide open, allowing the crisp autumn air and warm afternoon sunlight to flood the marble corridors. The sharp smell of medical sedatives had been completely replaced by the fragrance of fresh yellow roses—Rosalie’s favorite flowers—which now filled every vase in the house.
Sarah Harper had been promoted from head laundry maid to the estate’s primary House Manager, overseeing the entire domestic staff with a warmth and dignity that transformed the house into a genuine home. Ellie no longer wore her oversized, faded hand-me-down sweaters; she wore neat, comfortable school clothes, her pale hair tied back with bright ribbons.
Yet, despite the peace that was slowly returning, a new, complex challenge was looming on the horizon.
Sitting in his glass-walled private study on the second floor, Dominic Moretti was staring at a massive mahogany desk covered in financial documents, legal transcripts, and international intelligence dossiers.
Beside him stood Marco, his trusted head of security, along with a sharp-eyed female private investigator named Evelyn Reed, whom Dominic had hired to conduct an exhaustive sweep of Vivian Lock's global connections.
"Dominic," Evelyn said, laying a thick black folder on the desk. "Vivian Lock was not working alone. Siphoning forty million dollars out of your family trust required more than just local bank accounts. She was funneling that capital directly into a shell corporation registered in Switzerland called Aegis Holdings."
Dominic leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing. "Who controls Aegis Holdings?"
Evelyn pointed her pen at a line of code on the document. "Aegis Holdings is a subsidiary owned by the Moretti European Investment Syndicate in Milan—specifically, by your late wife’s estranged half-brother, Julian Vance."
Dominic’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching into a hard fist against the leather blotter. "Julian."
"Yes," Evelyn continued. "Julian lost his portion of the family estate five years ago due to reckless investments in South American copper mines. He knew that if Rosalie died and your triplets were declared legally incapacitated, Vivian Lock—as Rosalie's cousin and corporate attorney—would be granted full executive power over the Moretti Trust. Julian wasn't just helping Vivian hide the money; he was the architect who supplied Dr. Harlon with the rare neurotoxin."
"Where is Julian now?" Dominic asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy tone.
"He arrived in New York yesterday morning," Marco chimed in from the door. "He checked into the St. Regis Hotel under a diplomatic passport. Officially, he’s here to attend the emergency Moretti Industrial Holdings board meeting tomorrow morning to represent the European shareholders. Unofficially... he knows the police are closing in on his Swiss accounts."
Just then, a light tap sounded at the heavy oak door of the study.
Dominic’s expression softened instantly. "Come in."
Ten-year-old Ellie Harper stepped into the room, holding a small silver tray with a cup of hot black tea and two butter biscuits. Behind her, Matteo, Enzo, and Lucia peeked through the doorway, giggling softly.
"Your mother sent this up, Mr. Moretti," Ellie said politely, setting the tray carefully on the edge of the desk. "She said you’ve been working for six hours without drinking anything."
"Thank you, Ellie," Dominic said, offering her a genuine smile. "And what are those three troublemakers doing behind you?"
Matteo stepped into the room, holding a drawing made with bright colored pencils. "We made a new map of the garden, Daddy. Ellie showed us where the old rosebushes used to be. We want to plant new ones this weekend!"
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, son," Dominic said, standing up and walking over to kiss Lucia’s forehead.
He looked down at the four children—his three biological offspring and the brave young girl who had brought them back from the brink of tragedy. They were healing, bonding, and laughing together in a way he had thought impossible a month ago.
He looked back at the black dossier sitting on his desk—the dossier bearing Julian Vance’s name.
Dominic knew that as long as Julian Vance remained free, as long as the shadowy puppet master behind Rosalie’s death was still pulling strings from the executive boardrooms of Milan, his family would never be completely safe.
"Marco," Dominic said quietly, looking up from his children.
"Yes, boss?"
"Contact the District Attorney again. Tell him we are going to let Julian Vance attend the board meeting tomorrow morning."
Evelyn Reed frowned slightly. "Dominic, if Julian realizes we know about Aegis Holdings, he could flee the country back to Switzerland before the arrest warrant is signed."
"He won't flee," Dominic said, a dark, brilliant coldness settling into his eyes. "Because tomorrow morning, I am going to walk into that boardroom with the one witness Julian never anticipated."
He looked down at Ellie Harper.
"Ellie," Dominic asked gently. "Do you remember the blue-stamped papers you saw in Rosalie's greenhouse desk?"
Ellie nodded promptly. "Yes, Mr. Moretti. The ones with the silver wax seal from Milan. I remember the name written at the top."
"What was the name, Ellie?"
May you like
"Julian Vance," Ellie said clearly. "Mrs. Moretti told me that name was the reason she was afraid."
Dominic laid a gentle hand on Ellie's shoulder. "Then tomorrow, my brave little girl, you are going to help me finish what Rosalie started."
