Chapter 7 - Inside the Moretti Empire
Moretti Tower rose eighty stories above the Chicago River, a monument of glass and steel piercing the morning clouds. Emma felt intensely self-conscious walking through the marble lobby in her best clean jeans, a simple cream sweater, and plain canvas shoes. Security guards stood at strict attention, bowing slightly as Julian led her directly to the private express elevator that bypassed all commercial floors.
The penthouse office occupied the entire top level. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a breathtaking 360-degree panorama of Lake Michigan and the sprawling city skyline.
Sitting at a comfortable glass tea table near the window was Isabella Moretti, sipping chamomile tea. Across from her, Vincent was reviewing financial documents on a tablet, looking impeccably tailored in a dark three-piece suit without a tie.
"Emma, darling!" Isabella set her cup down immediately, her face brightening with genuine joy. "Come in, please! Sit with me."
Emma approached carefully. "Good morning, Mrs. Moretti. Mr. Moretti."
Vincent stood up as she approached—a gesture of respect that wealthy men rarely afforded to service workers. He gestured toward the plush armchair across from his mother. "Please, sit down, Miss Carter."
Emma took a seat, feeling the soft Italian leather beneath her. "Thank you for the ride, but... I really must know why you invited me here. I told Mr. Henderson I wouldn't cause any trouble."
"Henderson has already been removed from his position," Vincent stated plainly, sitting back down. "And you are not here because of trouble. You are here because my mother made a request."
Isabella reached across the table and took Emma’s hand gently. "Emma, I am an old woman who dislikes having armed guards hovering over my shoulder like vultures. But yesterday showed me that my son’s concerns for my safety are not entirely unfounded. However, I refuse to be surrounded by mercenaries."
Emma blinked, confused. "Ma'am?"
"I want someone by my side whom I can trust," Isabella explained softly. "Someone who looks at a person and sees their soul, not their bank account. I want you to become my personal executive companion and family liaison."
"A... companion?" Emma stammered.
Vincent slid a folder across the sleek table. "Your responsibilities will include accompanying my mother to her philanthropic visits, managing her personal schedule, and overseeing her private residence staff. The starting compensation is two hundred and fifty thousand dollars annually, full medical coverage for you and your dependents, and comprehensive housing assistance."
Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? Full medical coverage? Liam’s treatments, his specialist appointments, his expensive inhalers—all of it would be secured in an instant.
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"I... I don't know what to say," Emma whispered, tears prickling her eyes. "This is too much. I'm just a waitress. I don't have a degree in administration."
"Integrity cannot be taught at Harvard, Miss Carter," Vincent said, his voice deep and resolute. "You risked your livelihood to protect my mother when you had everything to lose. In my world, that level of loyalty is priceless. The question is: do you accept?"
