Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT REVENGE ENDED
Luca did not let me go to the Palisade.
That was how I described it angrily for the first thirty seconds.
Then he said, “I’m not stopping you. I’m asking you to give law enforcement twelve minutes to get there first.”
Which was much harder to argue with.
So we waited.
Twelve minutes.
The longest twelve minutes of my life.
Federal agents entered Room 1904 at 11:36 p.m.
Ryan was not there.
Neither was Victor.
But the original forged Henderson authorization was.
So were two boxes of documents, Sofia’s stolen notary journal, Evelyn Hart’s billing files, and a laptop containing drafts of six different versions of my supposed consent.
Ryan had not been lying.
For once.
They found blood on the bathroom sink.
Not enough to suggest someone had died.
Enough to make my stomach hurt.
I stood in Luca’s apartment watching the city through glass while calls moved around me.
Vanessa had gone with counsel to meet investigators.
Sofia was home with her children.
My parents were under protection at the hospital.
Ryan was missing.
Luca entered the room at 1:10 a.m.
“They found his car.”
I turned.
“Where?”
“Airport parking.”
“Blood?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Inside.”
That was not good.
“Do they think he left?”
“No flights under his name.”
I wrapped my arms around myself.
“I should hate him.”
Luca said nothing.
“I do hate him.”
Still nothing.
“But I don’t want him dead.”
“Of course not.”
The simplicity of it broke something.
I sat on the edge of the sofa.
“I feel stupid.”
“For caring?”
“For all of it.”
I stared at my hands.
“I keep replaying the last five years like there’s one moment where I should have known. One dinner. One lie. One look.”
“There probably isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been doing the same thing with Vanessa.”
I looked up.
He sat in the chair opposite me.
Tie gone.
Sleeves rolled.
For the first time, he looked as exhausted as I felt.
“When did you know?” I asked.
“That my marriage was over?”
“Yes.”
He thought.
“Not when she left.”
“No?”
“No.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I waited.
He looked toward the windows.
“When she walked into your apartment and I was more worried about whether she had brought danger to you than whether she had come back to me.”
The honesty in that sentence made the room feel smaller.
I looked away.
Our fake arrangement had rules.
No pretending alone.
No using each other to avoid grief.
We were getting dangerously close to the edge of both.
“Luca.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His gaze returned.
“I don’t want this to become revenge.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t want to wake up three months from now and realize I used you to survive Ryan.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“Then maybe we stop.”
A long silence.
“The public relationship?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
The ease of it surprised me.
“You agree?”
“You asked for a stop rule.”
“I expected you to negotiate.”
“I only negotiate terms that are negotiable.”
I laughed softly.
Then sadness followed.
“So that’s it.”
“For the arrangement.”
Something moved between us.
I heard it in the distinction.
“The arrangement,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
I stood.
He did too.
We were four feet apart.
No cameras.
No reporters.
No spouses watching from Cabo.
No strategic reason to touch.
For the first time, anything that happened would belong only to us.
That frightened me more than the performance ever had.
I picked up my bag.
“I should go.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“I can sleep at my parents’ house.”
“It’s being processed because of the safe entry.”
“My apartment.”
“Victor knows where you live.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Do not say safe house.”
His mouth twitched.
“I was going to offer the guest room.”
“Oh.”
“You seem disappointed.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Guest room is down the hall.”
I took three steps.
Then stopped.
“Luca.”
“Yes?”
“Why did you make the offer?”
“What offer?”
“That first morning. ‘Why don’t you and I get together?’”
He leaned one shoulder against the wall.
“I was angry.”
“That part was obvious.”
“I wanted Vanessa to see that leaving did not destroy me.”
“That’s almost human.”
“I have moments.”
I smiled.
Then he continued.
“And I wanted you to stop looking like someone had turned the lights off inside you.”
My smile disappeared.
“What?”
“At the restaurant. When we first talked.”
“You barely knew me.”
“I knew the look.”
“From where?”
He did not answer immediately.
Then, “My mother.”
I waited.
“My father cheated on her for years. Publicly, near the end.”
I stared.
“I’m sorry.”
“She stayed.”
“Why?”
“Family. Reputation. Fear. Habit. Pick one.”
His voice hardened.
“I watched her become quieter every year.”
Understanding moved through me.
“You weren’t only trying to hurt Vanessa.”
“No.”
“You were trying to make me get up.”
“Yes.”
I should have found that manipulative.
Maybe part of it was.
But another part was simply a man who had recognized a kind of collapse he had seen before and thrown the first rope he could find.
“That was still an insane offer.”
“Absolutely.”
I laughed.
He smiled.
A real smile this time.
It changed his face.
Made him younger.
Less feared.
More dangerous to me in an entirely different way.
I stepped toward him.
He did not move.
Rule one.
No touching without warning.
“May I?” I asked.
His eyes darkened.
“May you what?”
“This.”
I kissed him.
One kiss.
Soft.
Brief.
Not revenge.
Not strategy.
Not enough to erase anything.
When I pulled back, his hands were still at his sides.
Control.
Respect.
It nearly undid me.
“That,” I whispered, “was not part of the arrangement.”
“No.”
“Good.”
His voice was rough.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“If you kiss me again, I’m going to touch you.”
Heat rose through me.
“Warning accepted.”
I kissed him again.
His hand came to my waist.
The other touched my jaw.
Nothing rushed.
Nothing demanded.
For ten seconds, maybe twenty, the world was quiet.
Then my phone rang.
I laughed against his mouth.
“Of course.”
He rested his forehead against mine.
“Your timing is terrible.”
“My phone’s timing.”
“Same household.”
I answered.
It was a federal agent.
They had found Ryan.
Alive.
He had walked into a Henderson police station barefoot, bruised, and carrying a memory card taped beneath his shirt.
Victor’s security had caught him leaving the Palisade.
Ryan escaped when the vehicle stopped at a gas station.
He wanted to cooperate.
And he had one condition.
He would give a full statement only if I came.
“I’m going,” I said.
Luca nodded.
No argument.
We arrived at the station before three.
Ryan sat in an interview room behind glass.
His left eye was swollen.
There was a cut across his cheek.
When he saw me, he stood.
Shame crossed his face.
I entered with an attorney and an agent.
Luca stayed outside.
Ryan looked at the bruise-free side of my face.
Then behind me.
“Moretti here?”
“Yes.”
“Of course.”
I sat.
“You asked for me.”
He lowered himself into the chair.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t start there.”
He closed his eyes.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Start with the truth.”
So he did.
Not all at once.
Truth rarely comes gracefully.
He admitted Vanessa had shown him documents about my trust fourteen months earlier.
He admitted he became obsessed with the idea that my family had hidden tens of millions from him.
He admitted that resentment had made Victor’s lies easy to believe.
Victor told him I had always planned to leave him once I inherited Bennett Supply.
Victor told him Luca’s family would seize Henderson.
Victor told him signing preliminary papers would “protect marital rights.”
Ryan wanted to believe all of it because the alternative was admitting that my success had never been the reason he felt small.
His choices were.
“What about Vanessa?” I asked.
His eyes filled.
“I loved her.”
Present tense.
That hurt.
But it also freed something.
“Do you still?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
He looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
This time I let him say it.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t.”
He pressed his palms to the table.
“I sat across from you at dinner after sleeping with her. I watched you apologize for working too much. I let you think our marriage was failing because of you.”
My throat tightened.
“I know that part.”
“I hated myself.”
“That did not stop you.”
“No.”
At least he did not ask for mercy.
“What’s on the memory card?”
“Victor talking to Evelyn and Matteo.”
“About what?”
“Destroying the trust records. Blaming me for the signatures. Moving money offshore after Friday’s transfer.”
“Why did you take it?”
He laughed weakly.
“Because Vanessa left me.”
I stared.
“I wish I had a noble answer.”
He shook his head.
“She said she was going to testify. I realized everyone was choosing a side and I had somehow become the easiest person to sacrifice.”
“You were.”
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“So I chose mine.”
“Which side?”
“The one where I finally stop lying.”
The agent took the card.
Ryan’s cooperation would not erase what he had done.
He knew that.
He signed a proffer agreement with counsel.
Then, before they moved him, he said, “Claire.”
I turned.
“Victor has one more move.”
“What?”
“Your father’s company has a board meeting at nine.”
“I know.”
“He bought two board members.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do they plan?”
“Declare Thomas medically unable to serve. Install an interim chair. Approve sale negotiations before the fraud challenge is resolved.”
I looked at the clock.
3:47 a.m.
Five hours.
I left the room.
Luca stood in the hallway.
He took one look at my face.
“What?”
“Bennett Supply board meeting at nine.”
“And?”
“They’re staging a coup.”
He checked his watch.
Then looked at me.
“Do you have voting rights?”
“Not yet.”
“Can your father proxy?”
“Yes.”
“If he’s competent.”
“He is.”
Luca nodded.
“Then we go to the hospital.”
I started walking.
He followed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“I’m not about to take control of my family company.”
I stopped.
“You are not coming into that board meeting as Luca Moretti.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Excuse me?”
“If you walk in, Victor’s people will say this is a Moretti takeover.”
“That’s fair.”
“You stay outside.”
“I don’t like that.”
“I don’t care.”
A pause.
Then his mouth curved.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The woman Vanessa said made rooms feel like something important had begun.”
I stared at him.
He remembered.
Everything that mattered when he was worried.
I turned away before he could see what that did to me.
At 4:02 in the morning, we drove toward the hospital.
At 4:17, my father signed a temporary voting proxy giving me control of Bennett Supply.
At 4:31, my mother made me eat half a vending-machine granola bar.
At 5:05, my attorney confirmed two board members had scheduled a motion to remove Dad.
At 6:12, Victor Romano’s attorneys filed a demand for expedited consideration of the Henderson transfer.
At 7:40, every major financial reporter in Las Vegas received an anonymous email claiming I was attempting to sell my family company to Luca Moretti.
May you like
And at 8:53, I walked into Bennett Supply headquarters alone.
For the first time in my life, the company was mine to defend.
