Chapter 12 - The Moretti Ledger
Emily stared at Thomas.
“You knew where I was for twelve years?”
Thomas looked older suddenly.
Not physically.
Morally.
“Yes.”
“You watched my mother lose our apartment?”
“No.”
“You knew my father was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“You knew she blamed him?”
Thomas’s silence answered.
Emily stepped backward.
Roman moved near her, but she lifted a hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
She looked at Thomas.
“Why?”
Thomas tried to stand.
Cross helped him into a chair.
“Edward asked me to.”
Emily laughed.
“No.”
“He did.”
“Don’t use my father.”
“I’m not.”
Thomas’s voice weakened.
“Before Edward confronted Victor, he made me promise that if anything happened, I would watch from a distance.”
“Why a distance?”
“Because anyone close to you could lead Victor to you.”
“He already knew who I was.”
“Not where you were after your mother moved.”
Emily shook her head.
“That doesn’t explain twelve years.”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“At first it was protection.”
“And later?”
Silence.
“Later?”
“I became afraid.”
Emily stared.
“Of Victor?”
“Yes.”
“Then say that.”
Thomas nodded.
“I became a coward.”
The honesty hurt.
Emily looked away.
Roman said quietly, “You could have helped them anonymously.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
“Money.”
“Yes.”
“Housing.”
“Yes.”
“Legal help.”
“Yes.”
Roman’s voice hardened.
“And you didn’t.”
“No.”
Emily closed her eyes.
Roman sounded angry for her.
She did not know whether that comforted or frightened her.
Thomas continued.
“When Luca discovered Edward’s records, I told him about you. He wanted to contact you immediately.”
Emily looked up.
“What stopped him?”
“Me.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Thomas continued.
“I said we needed evidence first. Luca agreed to wait a few weeks.”
“He died before he found me.”
“Yes.”
Emily pressed her lips together.
“So when did you start looking again?”
“Two months ago.”
“Why?”
Thomas looked toward Victor.
“Because Victor started searching for the vault.”
Roman frowned.
“How did he learn about it?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Victor laughed.
“No?”
Cross told him to remain quiet.
Victor smiled.
Roman looked through Luca’s box.
He found a black ledger.
The cover had no markings.
Inside were coded transactions.
Dates.
Initials.
Property addresses.
Emily recognized several addresses from Edward’s notebook.
“Same projects.”
Roman nodded.
Then he saw a repeated entry.
D.M.
David.
But beneath it was another code.
S.M. reserve.
Roman’s father.
He searched further.
One entry dated four years earlier:
LC inquiry — monitor only.
Luca Carter? No.
Luca Moretti.
“Monitor only,” Roman whispered.
Thomas looked.
Roman continued to the following month.
LC escalated. V authorized containment.
His face went pale.
Victor authorized containment.
But who wrote the ledger?
The handwriting was not Victor’s.
Roman knew Victor’s writing.
Not David’s either.
Vanessa looked over his shoulder.
“Whose is it?”
Roman shook his head.
Conrad, finally free, approached slowly.
He glanced at the page.
Then froze.
“I know.”
Vanessa looked at her father.
“Who?”
Conrad swallowed.
“Your mother.”
Vanessa stared.
“What?”
Roman looked at him.
“Eleanor Sinclair?”
Conrad nodded.
Vanessa laughed in disbelief.
“My mother died seven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“She wrote this?”
Conrad closed his eyes.
“She kept financial records for David.”
Vanessa looked sick.
“You told me she ran the foundation.”
“She did.”
“Did she know about the sabotage?”
“Not initially.”
“Later?”
Conrad’s silence was enough.
Vanessa stepped away.
“Everyone knew except us.”
Roman almost smiled at the bitter symmetry.
Children protected by lies.
Roman.
Luca.
Vanessa.
Emily.
Nicholas.
Every older generation had called secrecy love.
The younger ones inherited the damage.
Conrad took the ledger.
He turned pages.
“This was Eleanor’s private book.”
“How did Luca get it?” Roman asked.
“After she died, Victor cleared her office. Luca must have found it.”
Vanessa stared at her father.
“Mom helped David?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Conrad’s face crumpled.
“Because David was her brother.”
Silence.
Roman stared.
“What?”
Vanessa went white.
Conrad continued.
“Half-brother.”
David sat heavily on a chair.
He already knew.
Roman looked from David to Conrad.
“Eleanor Sinclair was a Moretti?”
David shook his head.
“No. Our mother had a relationship before she married my father.”
Roman frowned.
“Then David and Eleanor shared a mother.”
Conrad nodded.
Vanessa whispered, “That makes…”
“David your uncle.”
She stared at David.
He looked away.
Roman laughed once in disbelief.
The family tree had become another map of hidden corridors.
Conrad said, “Eleanor protected David for years.”
Roman looked at the ledger again.
“Did she authorize Luca’s containment?”
Conrad hesitated.
“She was dead.”
Roman checked the date.
He was right.
The later entries were written in different ink.
Similar handwriting.
Imitated.
Someone had continued using Eleanor’s ledger after her death.
Emily leaned closer.
“The pressure changes.”
Roman looked at her.
“What?”
“My father taught me handwriting pressure matters.”
She pointed.
“These older entries lean right. The later ones are straighter.”
Conrad nodded slowly.
“Someone copied her style.”
Roman looked at Victor.
“Who?”
Victor smiled.
“You really do enjoy puzzles.”
Cross stepped forward.
Roman stopped him.
Victor continued.
“The ledger was useful because everybody assumed a dead woman wrote it.”
“Who continued it?”
Victor’s smile remained.
Roman looked at the dates.
The fake entries began seven years ago.
Shortly after Eleanor died.
Who gained access to her office?
Victor.
Conrad.
Vanessa perhaps.
David.
And someone else.
Michael Sarto.
Victor’s son.
The former Harbor Crest security architect.
But Michael died two years ago.
Roman asked, “Michael?”
Victor’s expression changed.
Barely.
But enough.
Cross saw it too.
“Your son.”
Victor looked away.
Roman continued.
“Michael continued the ledger.”
Victor remained silent.
“Did Michael sabotage Luca’s car?”
Victor’s eyes hardened.
Roman knew.
“Yes.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Thomas closed his eyes.
Victor finally spoke.
“Michael followed instructions.”
“Yours?”
“No.”
Roman stepped closer.
“Whose?”
Victor smiled again.
“You won’t like it.”
“I haven’t liked anything tonight.”
Victor glanced at David.
Then Conrad.
Then Roman.
“Luca’s.”
Roman stared.
“What?”
Victor laughed.
“Not the sabotage.”
Roman’s jaw tightened.
“Then what?”
“Luca recruited Michael.”
Cross frowned.
“Against you?”
Victor nodded slowly.
“My son betrayed me.”
Roman stared.
Victor’s voice became bitter.
“Luca convinced Michael to help collect evidence.”
Thomas looked stunned.
“You never told me.”
Victor smiled.
“Because you never knew.”
Roman asked, “Then who sabotaged Luca’s car?”
Victor’s face became hard.
“Michael tried to stop it.”
Silence.
Roman felt cold.
“Stop what?”
“The order.”
“Whose order?”
Victor looked toward the back of the vault.
A small monitor sat on one shelf.
He nodded toward it.
“Ask the dead.”
Roman turned.
Cross powered the monitor.
A list of video files appeared.
Dates.
The final file had been recorded the night before Luca died.
Roman pressed play.
Luca appeared on screen.
Beside him stood Michael Sarto.
Young.
Nervous.
Alive.
Michael looked at the camera.
“If anything happens to Luca or me, the person who ordered the containment is not Victor.”
Roman stopped breathing.
Michael continued.
“My father takes blame because that’s how the system was designed.”
Victor’s face tightened.
Michael looked off camera.
“The order came from inside the Moretti family.”
Roman whispered, “David.”
Michael shook his head on the recording as if answering him.
“Not David.”
Roman stared.
Then Luca stepped closer to the camera.
“Roman, this is going to hurt.”
Roman’s hands started shaking.
Luca continued.
“The order came from someone you trust more than anyone.”
The video glitched.
Static.
Roman hit play.
Nothing.
Corrupted.
Cross began working on recovery.
Roman turned to Thomas.
“Who?”
Thomas looked frightened.
“I don’t know.”
“You must.”
“I swear.”
Roman looked at David.
David shook his head.
Conrad.
No.
Vanessa.
No.
Emily looked at Roman.
“Who did you trust most after your father died?”
Roman answered automatically.
“Luca.”
She shook her head.
“Besides Luca.”
Roman’s mind moved through names.
Victor?
Never completely.
David?
No.
Cross?
Yes.
Roman slowly turned.
Daniel Cross stood beside the computer.
The security director looked back.
Everyone became silent.
Cross understood immediately.
“You think it was me.”
Roman didn’t answer.
Cross’s face changed.
“Roman, I was with you the night Luca died.”
“I know.”
“I pulled you away from the hospital when reporters arrived.”
“I know.”
“I’ve protected Nicholas.”
“I know.”
“Then say something.”
Roman looked at his oldest trusted security chief.
Before he could speak, Cross’s computer finished repairing part of the damaged audio.
Michael’s voice emerged.
“The authorization code belongs to…”
Static.
Then one clear word.
Cross.
Everyone stared at Daniel Cross.
May you like
And for the first time in fourteen years, Roman Moretti did not know whether the man beside him was friend or enemy.
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