Chapter 6 - The Moretti RuleThe private jet departed Teterboro at five the following morning.
Destination: Zurich.
Anna had never flown privately.
She decided within three minutes that commercial aviation was a conspiracy against ordinary people.
The cabin contained cream leather seats, a bedroom, a shower, and enough polished wood to construct a small yacht.
Lorenzo sat across from her reviewing documents.
Antonio sat farther back under the watch of two Moretti soldiers.
Father and daughter had barely spoken since Red Hook.
Anna looked out the window.
Clouds stretched beneath them.
“You’re angry with him.”
Lorenzo did not look up.
“Your observational skills remain exceptional.”
“I meant my father.”
“I know.”
Anna kicked his shoe.
He finally looked at her.
“That was a five-thousand-dollar shoe.”
“Then it should survive.”
“It will.”
“Good.”
She turned toward the window again.
“I spent ten years wishing I could talk to him one more time.”
Lorenzo waited.
“I imagined everything I would say.”
“And now?”
“I mostly want to punch him.”
“Understandable.”
She glanced at him.
“What would you say to your father?”
The question changed him.
Anna almost apologized.
Then Lorenzo answered.
“I would ask why he trusted Gabriel.”
“That’s all?”
“No.”
He closed the folder.
“I would ask whether he knew what would happen to my mother.”
Anna said nothing.
“And I would ask why he left me so unprepared.”
“You were seventeen.”
“In my family, seventeen is old enough to understand enemies.”
“You became head of the family at seventeen?”
“Eighteen.”
“What happened during the year between?”
Lorenzo’s eyes became distant.
“My uncle Carlo took control.”
Anna sensed the rest.
“And?”
“I killed him.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“He ordered my death.”
Lorenzo said it as if discussing weather.
Anna studied him.
“Did Gabriel manipulate him?”
“That is what I’m beginning to wonder.”
The implications were enormous.
Gabriel had not simply killed Lorenzo’s father.
He might have engineered the succession crisis that forced Lorenzo to become what he was.
Anna reached across the space between them.
She touched his hand.
Lorenzo looked down.
Neither spoke.
Then Antonio’s voice came from behind them.
“Anna.”
She withdrew her hand.
Her father approached.
Lorenzo watched but did not interfere.
Antonio sat beside her.
“I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me ten years.”
“I know.”
“That’s not something an explanation fixes.”
“No.”
Antonio looked older than he had at Grand Central.
“I disappeared because Gabriel discovered I had helped Sebastiano collect evidence.”
Anna listened.
“He ordered Russo to kill me.”
“So Russo thought you stole his money.”
“I did.”
She blinked.
Antonio smiled faintly.
“That part was true.”
“Twenty-eight million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Gone.”
“You spent twenty-eight million?”
“Keeping people alive is expensive.”
He explained.
Witnesses.
Families.
Former Black Cross operatives.
People Gabriel wanted erased.
Antonio had used Russo’s money to build escape routes.
Anna shook her head.
“You could have told Mom.”
“She knew enough.”
“You could have told me.”
“You were a child.”
“I stopped being a child while looking over my shoulder because of you.”
Antonio absorbed the blow.
“You’re right.”
No excuse.
No defense.
That somehow made Anna angrier.
“And now Mom is paying again.”
“Yes.”
He looked toward his hands.
“That is my fault.”
Anna’s anger cracked.
She saw her father.
Not the myth.
Not the dead man.
A tired human being who had made terrible choices while believing they were necessary.
She did not forgive him.
Not yet.
But she reached over and took his hand.
Antonio closed his eyes.
They landed in Switzerland seven hours later.
The bank occupied a discreet stone building near Paradeplatz.
No signs advertised private wealth.
None were necessary.
Antonio and Anna entered together.
Lorenzo remained outside.
The biometric verification worked.
Anna’s twelve-year-old fingerprints had changed enough to require additional identification, but the bank’s records contained a secondary protocol.
A phrase.
The manager looked at Anna.
“Your father selected the question.”
Anna nodded.
“What does the bird fear?”
She remembered.
Her father used to ask it when they played a game during storms.
The bird fears the cage.
Anna answered.
“But flies toward the wolf.”
The vault opened.
Inside was the ledger.
It was disappointingly ordinary.
Black leather.
No symbol.
No title.
Anna opened it.
Names.
Numbers.
Codes.
Decades of secrets.
Then she saw one name.
Sebastiano Moretti.
Beside it:
LIABILITY: FAMILY.
STATUS: REMOVED.
AUTHORIZED: G. VALE.
She closed the ledger.
“We have it.”
Antonio nodded.
A gunshot sounded outside the vault.
Anna froze.
The bank manager screamed.
Antonio drew a pistol from beneath his coat.
“You brought a gun into a Swiss bank?”
“I’m Italian.”
“That explains nothing.”
Another shot.
Antonio pushed her behind the vault door.
Men shouted outside.
Then Lorenzo appeared.
Blood marked his sleeve.
Anna’s heart stopped.
“You’re hit.”
“Graze.”
He grabbed her.
“Ledger?”
She held it up.
“Move.”
They escaped through an underground parking structure.
Leo had arranged a secondary vehicle.
Bullets struck the rear window as they accelerated away.
Anna sat beside Lorenzo.
Blood was spreading down his arm.
“Take off your jacket.”
“I’m fine.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Interesting.”
“Shut up.”
She tore open the emergency medical kit.
The bullet had cut along his upper arm.
No entry wound.
She cleaned it.
Lorenzo watched her.
“You’re surprisingly calm.”
“I worked hotel guest relations.”
“That prepared you for gunshot wounds?”
“You would be amazed what happens during Fashion Week.”
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Anna stopped.
She had never heard the sound.
It was low and warm.
It changed his entire face.
“What?”
Lorenzo asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’ve never seen you look human.”
His smile disappeared.
“There. Much better.”
Anna wrapped the bandage.
Her fingers moved over his skin.
Lorenzo became quiet.
The vehicle turned sharply.
Anna lost balance.
His hand caught her waist.
Their faces came close.
Too close.
Anna’s breath changed.
Lorenzo’s eyes dropped to her mouth.
The world narrowed.
For days, tension had lived between them.
Now it became something else.
Something hot.
Dangerous.
Unavoidable.
“Anna.”
His voice was barely audible.
She should move.
She did not.
“Tell me to stop.”
He had not touched her mouth.
Not yet.
Anna looked into his eyes.
For once, Lorenzo Moretti was asking rather than ordering.
That mattered.
She leaned forward.
Their mouths met.
The first kiss was almost careful.
Almost.
Then Anna gripped his shirt.
Lorenzo’s control broke.
His hand moved into her hair.
He kissed her deeper.
Heat rushed through her.
Fear.
Adrenaline.
Everything she had refused to feel since the Baccarat.
When they separated, both were breathing harder.
Anna stared at him.
“That was a mistake.”
“Yes.”
Neither moved away.
“A significant one.”
“Extremely.”
She kissed him again.
This time there was nothing careful about it.
From the front seat, Leo spoke without turning around.
“I would like to remind everyone that I am still here.”
Anna jerked backward.
Lorenzo looked murderous.
Leo continued.
“And so is her father.”
Antonio’s voice came from the other seat.
“I am choosing not to see anything.”
Anna covered her face.
“Oh God.”
Lorenzo calmly buttoned his shirt cuff.
“I can have both of them moved to another car.”
Anna hit him.
He smiled.
They reached the airport.
The jet was prepared.
But before boarding, Lorenzo received a message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Anna asked.
He showed her.
A photograph.
Teresa was tied to a chair.
Behind her stood Gabriel Vale.
The message contained one sentence.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT THE GIRL AT THE HOTEL.
Lorenzo went completely still.
Anna had seen him angry.
She had seen him kill.
This was different.
This was hatred without heat.
He called Leo.
“Lock down the estate.”
“Already happening.”
“Find whoever betrayed us.”
“Yes.”
Lorenzo looked at Anna.
“The plan changed.”
“How?”
“We’re not waiting for Ellis Island.”
May you like
He took the ledger from her.
“We’re ending this tonight.”
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