Chapter 5 - The Woman He Was Supposed to Marry
Vincent was already moving before Clare finished reading.
His security team surrounded the penthouse building within fifteen minutes.
Salvatore had disappeared.
Jenna was alive.
Shaken, furious, but unharmed.
“He wanted a file,” she said.
“What file?” Clare asked.
“He kept asking where Vincent stored Luca's records.”
Vincent looked toward his office.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
Jenna continued.
“He said something weird.”
“What?”
“He said Luca wasn't supposed to die.”
Vincent went still.
Clare saw pain beneath his composure.
“Exactly what did he say?”
Jenna repeated it.
“‘Ethan was the warning. Luca wasn't supposed to die.’”
That changed everything.
If Salvatore had said it truthfully, Ethan's death had been deliberate.
Luca's perhaps had not.
Vincent called Isabella.
She arrived forty minutes later with Carlo Romano.
Carlo was sixty-four, imposing and quiet.
He shook Vincent's hand.
Then surprised Clare by hugging him.
“I should have told you years ago.”
Vincent stiffened.
“Told me what?”
Carlo looked at Isabella.
She nodded.
“Luca came to me three days before Ethan died.”
Vincent stared.
“He believed his father was helping Vale.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Luca begged me not to until he had proof.”
“And after he died?”
Carlo looked ashamed.
“Salvatore threatened Isabella.”
Vincent glanced at her.
“You never said anything.”
“I was twenty-six. My father was terrified.”
Clare recognized the pattern.
Fear.
Secrets.
People trying to protect the ones they loved by withholding the truth.
And every silence had made Vale stronger.
“That's why people thought you and Vincent would marry,” Clare said.
Isabella nodded.
“Our families encouraged the rumor. It made people think I was protected by Vincent.”
Clare looked at Vincent.
“So there was never an engagement?”
“No.”
“Romance?”
Isabella laughed.
Vincent looked offended.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
For the first time in days, Clare smiled.
Then Carlo placed a key on the table.
“Luca gave me this.”
A bank deposit key.
The box was registered under a false corporate identity.
Vincent's attorneys secured access that night.
Inside were documents.
And a memory card.
The video on it had been recorded by Luca.
Vincent watched his cousin appear.
“If you're seeing this, something went wrong.”
Luca described everything.
Salvatore had originally joined Vale to hide gambling debts and business losses.
Then Vale gained leverage.
Daniel laundered transactions.
When Luca discovered it, he secretly contacted Ethan.
They built evidence together.
But according to Luca, Salvatore had begun trying to escape Vale.
“He wants out,” Luca said on the recording. “But Vale won't let anyone walk away.”
Then came the crucial line.
“Vale ordered Ethan killed.”
Clare closed her eyes.
Vincent reached for her hand.
She let him.
“Salvatore tried to stop it,” Luca continued. “He gave Ethan a warning. But Ethan wouldn't run.”
Clare cried silently.
Her brother had known.
He had stayed anyway.
The recording continued.
“The man Vale uses for the dirty work is named—”
Static.
Then Luca said a name.
Daniel Mercer.
Clare's hand slipped from Vincent's.
“No.”
Daniel had claimed he merely followed Ethan.
Luca said otherwise.
Daniel had been assigned to kill him.
Vincent's team found Daniel at Robert's house.
He tried to run.
They stopped him before he reached his car.
Clare insisted on confronting him.
“Did you kill Ethan?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
“Luca named you.”
“I was ordered to.”
“Did you?”
“No!”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I loved you.”
Clare stared at him.
The words were almost insulting.
“You didn't know me.”
“I'd seen you.”
“What?”
Daniel's voice cracked.
“Ethan had photographs. Family pictures. You were in them.”
Clare felt sick.
“I was supposed to make Ethan's crash look accidental.”
Vincent moved toward him.
Clare held up a hand.
“Let him finish.”
Daniel continued.
“I followed him. But I couldn't do it.”
“Then who did?”
“Vale sent someone else.”
“Who?”
“I never knew his name.”
Vincent didn't believe him.
Neither did Clare.
But Daniel produced something.
A recording he had secretly made of Marcus Vale.
Vale's voice clearly ordered Ethan's death.
It was enough to reopen the case.
Not enough to prove who physically caused the crash.
Federal investigators became involved.
Vale disappeared before they could reach him.
Salvatore remained missing.
For forty-eight hours, Manhattan seemed to contract around Clare.
Reporters discovered she was staying with Vincent.
Headlines exploded.
THE MORETTI MYSTERY WOMAN.
PR EXECUTIVE CAPTURES MANHATTAN'S MOST ELIGIBLE BAD BOY.
ISABELLA ROMANO REPLACED?
Clare hated all of it.
She especially hated that being called Vincent's girlfriend no longer felt entirely like pretending.
On the third night, she found him on the terrace.
“You haven't slept.”
“Neither have you.”
She stood beside him.
“Why did you really offer to come with me that first day?”
Vincent remained silent.
“You said you'd tell me.”
He looked at her.
“I recognized your name.”
“Because of Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“That isn't all.”
“No.”
Clare waited.
Vincent looked across Manhattan.
“When Ethan died, I thought I'd failed him.”
“You barely knew him.”
“He came to me for help.”
“And?”
“I didn't move fast enough.”
“That doesn't make his death yours.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Vincent looked at her.
She understood then.
The feared man.
The controlled man.
The man newspapers described like a weapon.
He carried guilt as quietly as she carried grief.
“You offered because you thought you owed Ethan.”
“At first.”
Clare's heart shifted.
“At first?”
Vincent stepped closer.
“Then you argued with me.”
“I argue with everyone.”
“You refused the dress until you realized you had a choice.”
“That's your romantic turning point?”
“It was memorable.”
She laughed.
He smiled.
Their faces were inches apart.
Clare's phone rang.
Of course it did.
She answered.
Vanessa.
“Clare, I found him.”
“Who?”
“Vale.”
Vincent immediately listened.
Vanessa had accessed Daniel's second phone before federal agents confiscated it.
A hidden calendar contained one future appointment.
Midnight.
Pier 19.
Tonight.
Vincent called the investigators.
They told him to stay away.
He agreed.
Clare stared at him.
“You're lying.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He looked at her.
“You aren't coming.”
“Also a lie.”
At 11:48 p.m., they reached the waterfront.
Federal agents were already positioned nearby.
Vincent had quietly informed them despite Clare's assumption.
“You did the responsible thing?”
“Don't sound so disappointed.”
At midnight, a car arrived.
Salvatore stepped out.
Alone.
He carried a briefcase.
A second vehicle appeared.
Marcus Vale emerged.
Clare recognized him from photographs.
Vale approached Salvatore.
They argued.
Agents listened through directional microphones.
Salvatore wanted immunity.
Vale laughed.
Then Vale said something that changed Vincent's face.
“You still think Luca's overdose was an accident?”
Salvatore lunged toward him.
Agents moved.
Chaos erupted.
Vale ran.
Salvatore shouted after him.
Vincent's men blocked the far exit.
Vale turned.
And saw Clare.
He smiled.
Not panic.
Recognition.
“Ethan's little sister.”
Vincent stepped in front of her.
Vale raised his hands as agents surrounded him.
Then he looked directly at Clare.
“You want to know who drove the car that killed your brother?”
Clare stopped breathing.
Vale smiled wider.
“He's standing right behind you.”
May you like
Clare turned.
A man had just stepped from the shadows.
