Chapter 7 - The Moretti TableDominic’s mother invited Chloe to Sunday dinner three weeks later.
Invited was not quite the correct word.
Maria handed Chloe an envelope on Thursday afternoon.
Inside was a cream card with one handwritten sentence.
Sunday. Six o’clock. Bring Eleanor. Dominic may come if he behaves.
Signed:
Lucia Moretti.
Chloe read it twice.
Then looked at Dominic.
“Your mother sends invitations to dinner?”
“She sends commands disguised as stationery.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
He said it so seriously that Chloe almost believed him.
Then his mouth moved.
She hit his shoulder with the envelope.
Sunday arrived cold and clear.
Lucia Moretti lived in Brooklyn in the same brownstone where Dominic and his brothers had grown up.
That surprised Chloe.
She had expected gates.
Security.
Marble.
Instead there were flower boxes beneath the windows and a brass doorbell that looked older than Dominic.
Lucia opened the door before they knocked.
She was seventy-one, barely five foot four and somehow more intimidating than her son.
She ignored Dominic.
“Give me the baby.”
Eleanor went willingly.
Traitor, Chloe thought.
Lucia kissed her granddaughter’s cheeks.
“Beautiful girl.”
“Thank you.”
Lucia looked at Chloe.
“I was complimenting her.”
Dominic sighed.
“Hello, Mother.”
“You’re blocking the doorway.”
They entered.
Dinner included Dominic’s brothers, Anthony and Gabriel, their wives, six children, Maria, Leo and three people Chloe never properly identified but who appeared to be cousins.
The house was loud.
Warm.
Uncontrolled.
Nothing like the silent penthouse where Chloe had first lived after leaving Derek.
Eleanor disappeared into a group of children within eight minutes.
Chloe watched nervously.
“She’ll survive,” Lucia said.
“She’s two.”
“So were mine.”
Dominic leaned toward Chloe.
“Her parenting philosophy is largely Darwinian.”
Lucia smacked the back of his hand with a wooden spoon.
Chloe laughed.
Then the front door opened.
The room changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough that Chloe noticed.
An older man entered.
Tall.
Gray-haired.
Expensive coat.
Dominic stood.
So did both his brothers.
Lucia did not.
“Salvatore,” she said.
The man kissed her cheek.
“Lucia.”
His eyes moved to Chloe.
Then Eleanor.
Recognition appeared.
Dominic stepped slightly closer to Chloe.
Not in front of her.
Beside her.
“This is my uncle,” he said.
Salvatore Moretti offered his hand.
“Chloe Bennett.”
She shook it.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Salvatore.”
His gaze lingered.
“I’ve heard a great deal.”
“I’m sure.”
His mouth curved.
“Dominic says you’re direct.”
“Dominic says very little.”
“Also true.”
Dinner resumed.
For twenty minutes, Salvatore was charming.
He asked about Chloe’s project.
Architecture.
Eleanor.
He complimented the redevelopment plans.
Then, while dessert was being served, he placed his fork down.
“I assume the professional mess has been contained.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
Chloe answered before he could.
“It’s being investigated.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“Not contained, then.”
“No.”
“The newspapers stopped.”
“That doesn’t mean the issue disappeared.”
“No, but perception is most of the battle.”
Chloe took a sip of water.
“Not when my license is involved.”
“Of course.”
The way he said it irritated her.
Dominic noticed.
His hand shifted beside his glass.
Salvatore continued.
“Martin Shaw is an unpleasant man.”
“You know him?”
“Everyone in finance knows everyone eventually.”
“Did you know he was contacting my firm?”
Dominic looked sharply at Chloe.
Salvatore remained calm.
“I heard.”
“When?”
“A few months ago.”
Dominic’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“You heard what?”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“Not at my table.”
Salvatore ignored her.
“That Shaw had taken an interest in the Queens development.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I saw no reason.”
Dominic’s chair moved.
Chloe touched his wrist.
He stopped.
She looked at Salvatore.
“What exactly did you hear?”
Salvatore studied her.
“That he believed the project could be used to embarrass Dominic.”
“How?”
“By connecting the financing to your position.”
Chloe felt cold.
“You knew that before the anonymous complaint.”
“Yes.”
“And did nothing.”
“I made inquiries.”
Dominic’s voice sharpened.
“Through whom?”
“People.”
“Names.”
“Dominic.”
“Names.”
Lucia put her fork down.
The small sound silenced the table.
“I said not at my table.”
Dominic leaned back.
But Chloe was not finished.
“Did your inquiries involve my architecture firm?”
Salvatore looked at her.
“That is not relevant.”
“It is to me.”
His expression cooled.
“You are becoming involved in a matter beyond architecture.”
“No.”
Chloe’s voice stayed calm.
“You brought the matter to dinner.”
Anthony stared into his wine.
Gabriel looked as though he wished to become invisible.
Salvatore smiled faintly.
“I understand why Dominic likes you.”
Chloe hated the sentence.
“Do you?”
“Yes. You challenge him.”
“I don’t exist to improve your nephew.”
Dominic looked down.
Chloe could have sworn he was hiding a smile.
Salvatore’s disappeared.
“You misunderstand me.”
“I understand you perfectly.”
She leaned forward.
“You knew someone intended to damage my reputation as a method of hurting Dominic. Instead of warning me, you made inquiries through people you refuse to identify.”
“I was protecting the family.”
“I’m not your family.”
Silence.
Dominic turned toward her.
The sentence hurt him.
Chloe saw it.
But it was true.
At least legally.
At least officially.
At least in the complicated place they currently occupied.
Salvatore looked toward Eleanor, who was sitting on the floor stacking wooden blocks with two cousins.
“You may become family.”
“That would still not give you authority over my career.”
“Authority?”
“Yes.”
“You assume too much.”
“Then explain.”
Salvatore’s eyes hardened.
Dominic spoke.
“Answer her.”
His uncle turned.
“This is family business.”
“No,” Dominic said. “It became Chloe’s business when you allowed someone to use her name as leverage.”
Something old passed between the two men.
Chloe did not understand it.
Lucia did.
She stood.
“Children. Upstairs.”
Nobody argued.
Within two minutes, the younger generation had disappeared.
Eleanor went with Maria.
The dining room felt larger without them.
Salvatore loosened his tie.
“Martin approached one of our associates five months ago.”
“What did he want?” Dominic asked.
“Money.”
“For what?”
“Information.”
“What information?”
Salvatore looked at Chloe.
“Your schedule.”
Her stomach tightened.
Dominic went utterly still.
“My schedule?”
“Professional events. Public appearances. Nothing private.”
“Why?”
“He claimed he was gathering evidence of improper coordination between you and Dominic.”
“There wasn’t any.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because Dominic’s compliance department investigated before accepting the Queens investment.”
Chloe turned slowly.
“Your company investigated me?”
Dominic’s face changed.
“Standard conflict review.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
Of course.
Another fact.
Another hidden fact.
Dominic said quietly, “They reviewed public professional information and disclosed relationships. Nothing personal.”
“Did you read it?”
“No.”
“Could you have?”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
She believed him.
That did not erase the problem.
Salvatore continued.
“Martin wanted evidence that Dominic interfered with the project.”
“Did he get anything?”
“No.”
“Then what did your associate do?”
“Told Martin to disappear.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed.
“Which associate?”
Salvatore did not answer.
Dominic stood.
Chloe had seen him angry.
This was different.
No raised voice.
No visible violence.
Just a terrifying absence of warmth.
“You involved someone from our organization in Chloe’s professional life without telling me.”
Salvatore rose too.
“I prevented a threat.”
“You concealed one.”
“You would have overreacted.”
Dominic laughed once.
“You don’t get to make that decision.”
Chloe almost felt the irony physically.
Dominic did too.
He looked at her.
The anger in his face shifted into something like recognition.
Salvatore noticed.
“This is what I was trying to prevent.”
“What?” Chloe asked.
“You turning every decision into a discussion about permission.”
The sentence landed badly.
Very badly.
Dominic’s expression became lethal.
But Chloe stood first.
“No.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“You don’t get to dismiss that.”
“I’m not dismissing—”
“Yes, you are.”
Chloe’s pulse raced, but her voice remained steady.
“You think asking permission is weakness because your world rewards people for acting before anyone can stop them.”
Salvatore stared.
“You think protection justifies secrecy because the outcome matters more than the person being protected.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“Maybe in business.”
“In life too.”
“No.”
He smiled without warmth.
“You’re young.”
“And you’re used to being obeyed.”
Anthony whispered, “Jesus.”
Lucia said, “Anthony.”
“Sorry, Ma.”
Chloe continued.
“You knew Martin wanted my schedule.”
“Public schedule.”
“You knew he was targeting me.”
“I neutralized him.”
“Did you?”
Salvatore frowned.
“He filed a complaint anyway.”
That silenced him.
Chloe stepped closer to the table.
“You didn’t neutralize anything. You just convinced him he couldn’t attack Dominic directly.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened.
Chloe felt the thought form.
“What if,” she said slowly, “that was the point?”
Salvatore frowned.
“What?”
“Martin knows Dominic’s reputation.”
“Yes.”
“He knows what people expect Dominic to do when someone threatens something he cares about.”
Dominic went still.
Chloe looked at him.
“He told Derek the easiest way to hurt you was to make you destroy what you were trying to protect.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Salvatore swore softly.
Chloe continued.
“What if Martin doesn’t need to prove I committed fraud?”
“He only needs me to interfere,” Dominic said.
“Yes.”
“Then he shows I received confidential complaint information.”
“Or pressured inspectors.”
“Or threatened someone.”
“Or used Moretti Capital’s position to change project decisions.”
Salvatore sat back down.
For the first time, he looked impressed rather than dismissive.
“He wants a reaction.”
Chloe nodded.
“And everyone keeps giving him one.”
Dominic looked at his uncle.
“Who did you send?”
Salvatore hesitated.
“Frank DeLuca.”
Dominic cursed.
Chloe asked, “Who is Frank DeLuca?”
“One of Salvatore’s old security people.”
“What did he do?”
Salvatore answered.
“Spoke to Martin.”
“How?”
Silence.
Chloe understood.
“You threatened him.”
“No physical harm.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Dominic rubbed a hand over his face.
“When?”
“Five months ago.”
“Did Martin record it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Assume he did.”
Salvatore looked toward Chloe.
“You’re right.”
She blinked.
Apparently Moretti men could occasionally say those words.
He continued.
“I treated the situation as pressure against Dominic. I did not consider the possibility that Shaw wanted that pressure documented.”
Chloe sat.
The anger drained slightly, replaced by focus.
“We need everything.”
Salvatore frowned.
“Everything?”
“Every contact. Every message. Every person who spoke to Martin.”
“That could create exposure.”
“It already exists.”
Dominic nodded.
“She’s right.”
Salvatore looked between them.
“This is not how your father handled problems.”
Dominic’s expression did not change.
“My father died when I was eight.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know some things should remain inside the family.”
Dominic looked at Chloe.
Then back at his uncle.
“No.”
One word.
Calm.
Final.
“If our people created evidence Martin can use against Chloe, we disclose it to counsel.”
Salvatore’s face hardened.
“You would expose family operations for her?”
Chloe’s stomach twisted.
She hated being turned into the choice.
Dominic did not.
“This isn’t for her.”
Salvatore frowned.
“It’s because you were wrong.”
Silence.
Dominic continued.
“And because I spent most of my adult life believing power meant preventing consequences.”
His eyes moved briefly toward Chloe.
“I’m trying something different.”
“What?”
“Taking them.”
Lucia smiled faintly.
Salvatore did not.
“This woman has changed you.”
Dominic’s expression hardened again.
“No.”
Chloe looked at him.
He continued.
“She told me when I was wrong.”
His gaze held hers.
“I decided whether to listen.”
Something inside Chloe softened.
Not completely.
She was still angry about the financing disclosure.
Still unsettled by the compliance investigation.
But this was different.
This was Dominic standing in front of the man who had helped shape him and refusing to call obedience loyalty.
Salvatore slowly nodded.
“Fine.”
He reached into his coat.
Dominic tensed.
Salvatore produced a phone.
Chloe almost laughed at herself.
He placed it on the table.
“I’ll send the records.”
“All of them?” Chloe asked.
“All of them.”
“No missing pages?”
His mouth twitched.
“You really don’t trust us.”
“I barely trust people who use normal accountants.”
Anthony laughed.
Lucia pointed her fork at him.
“Do not encourage her.”
“I like her.”
“Everyone likes her. That is the problem.”
The tension broke.
Not entirely.
Enough.
Later, while Dominic drove Chloe and Eleanor home, the city moved past in cold blue light.
Eleanor slept in her car seat.
Chloe watched him from the passenger seat.
“You said no.”
“To what?”
“When he said I changed you.”
Dominic kept his eyes on the road.
“You didn’t.”
“That sounds romantic.”
“You challenged me.”
“And?”
“And I changed myself.”
Chloe looked out the window.
“That might actually be more romantic.”
“I suspected.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
She smiled.
After several blocks, Dominic spoke again.
“I should have told you about the compliance review.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t order it.”
“I know.”
“I also should have told you about the fund.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to explain why I didn’t.”
Chloe looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve already used good intentions as a defense too many times.”
She was quiet.
Dominic turned at the next light.
“Intentions explain behavior. They don’t erase consequences.”
Chloe felt a slow warmth spread through her chest.
“Who taught you that?”
“A difficult architect.”
“She sounds brilliant.”
“Exhausting.”
“Still brilliant.”
“Possibly.”
They reached her building.
Dominic helped carry Eleanor upstairs.
After putting the sleeping child into bed, he returned to the living room.
Chloe was standing beside the window.
He stopped several feet away.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
He nodded.
Chloe turned.
“And Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“When this is over…”
He waited.
She looked at his jacket pocket.
The one where the ring had been that night.
His breathing changed.
Chloe almost smiled.
“When this is over,” she said, “ask me again.”
He stared.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
His expression became confused.
Chloe laughed softly.
“I’m not sure what my answer will be.”
Understanding came.
“But you want me to ask.”
“Yes.”
Dominic walked toward her.
Stopped an arm’s length away.
“Can I kiss you?”
Chloe smiled.
“Yes.”
He did.
And somewhere beneath the fear, the forged documents, the accusations and the mistakes they were still learning how not to repeat, Chloe felt something settle.
Not certainty.
May you like
Something better.
Choice that could be made again tomorrow.
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