Chapter 3 - Bloodline and Balance Sheets
Luca took the drive from Emma’s outstretched hand. Her skin was ice-cold. For a fraction of a second, his fingers brushed against hers, and he felt the rapid, fluttery beat of her pulse beneath the surface of her wrist. She was terrified, despite her iron composure. She had gambled her life on the assumption that Luca Moretti would choose logic over family pride.
"Marco," Luca said toward the open doorway.
Marco appeared immediately, stepping into the room with an encrypted laptop tucked beneath his arm. "Boss?"
"Plug this in. Run a sandbox environment. Air-gapped."
"On it."
Marco set the machine on the vanity table, connected the flash drive through an isolation bridge, and began typing. Within ninety seconds, strings of code flickered across the screen, resolving into a directory of PDF documents, scanned wire transfers, and bank routing numbers originating from Zurich and the Cayman Islands.
Luca leaned over Marco’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the numbers with the practiced speed of an auditor who had spent twenty years laundering revenue through legitimate enterprise.
Every figure matched Emma’s claim.
There were transfer receipts bearing Vincente Romano’s personal signature, routing funds directly into dummy corporations that Arthur Bennett had supposedly owned. There were emails between Bianca Romano and an associate deputy attorney general in Manhattan, outlining an "upcoming forfeiture of Moretti maritime assets" scheduled for the first quarter of the following year.
Bianca had not merely been planning a marriage of convenience. She had been engineering a bloodless coup.
"Jesus Christ," Marco breathed under his breath. "They were going to strip the entire southern fleet right out from under us."
Luca did not speak. His face had taken on the stone-like stillness that his capos dreaded more than shouting. He turned slowly toward Emma.
"She knew you took this?" Luca asked.
"She didn't know who took it at first," Emma replied. "She only knew the drive was missing from her bag. She suspected the domestic staff because none of your security personnel had entered the west wing during the afternoon. Sophia suggested rounding up the cleaning shift one by one. I happened to be the first one they isolated."
Luca’s jaw clenched. "If I had come home at midnight as scheduled..."
"They would have broken my fingers until I told them where the drive was," Emma said with chilling clarity. "Then they would have drowned me in the sound, claimed I stole a piece of Bianca’s jewelry and ran away, and you would have married her eight weeks from now with a smile on your face."
The room grew suffocatingly quiet.
Luca looked down at the bruises on her arms. He had spent his entire adult life surrounded by soldiers, killers, and politicians who bartered loyalty like currency. Yet here was a woman who had survived the destruction of her family, assumed a false identity, worked twelve-hour shifts scrubbing his marble floors, and faced down a beating without giving up the one piece of evidence that could save his empire.
"You took a monumental risk, Miss Bennett," Luca murmured.
"I had nothing left to lose," she said. "Except my life. And that lost its value the day my father died alone in a ditch while Vincente Romano gave a eulogy at his funeral."
Luca closed the laptop with a snap. "Your life has value to me. Starting tonight."
He turned to his lieutenant. "Marco."
"Yes, Boss?"
"Call the captains. Tell them to assemble at the warehouse on Forty-Second Street by midnight. Do not use the phones—send messengers in person. Tell them the Romano alliance is canceled. Effective immediately."
"And the Romanos?"
Luca looked at Emma. "Tell Vincente that if he wants to discuss the terms of our separation, he can meet me tomorrow morning at eleven. At the docks."
"Understood." Marco took the laptop and hurried out, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Emma looked up at Luca, her dark eyes searching his face. "He won't come to talk, Mr. Moretti. Vincente Romano does not apologize. He strikes first."
May you like
"So do I," Luca replied. "Get some sleep, Emma. You’re under my protection now. That means anyone who wants to touch a hair on your head will have to walk over my corpse first."
***
