Chapter 5 - The Hidden Ledger
By 3:00 AM, the estate was quiet again, but sleep was a luxury nobody in the Moretti household could afford.
In the private study on the main floor, Dominic sat behind his massive mahogany desk, reviewing the digital files extracted from Viktor Vance’s encrypted laptop. Row after row of shipping manifests, offshore shell company accounts, and encrypted chat logs scrolled across the dual monitors.
A soft, hesitant knock sounded at the heavy oak door.
“Enter,” Dominic commanded without looking up.
The door clicked open, and Sophia stepped inside. She had changed out of her housekeeper’s uniform into a simple dark sweater and jeans. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she carried a steaming mug of black coffee, placing it gently on the edge of the desk without interrupting him.
“You should be resting, Sophia,” Dominic said, finally leaning back in his leather chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her hands resting nervously against her jeans. “Dr. Harris checked on Ethan an hour ago. His vitals are completely stable. The fever hasn't returned.”
Dominic nodded slowly. “Good. Because of your daughter, he’s alive. I haven't forgotten that, Sophia.”
“I didn't come here for a reward, Mr. Moretti,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare, steel-spun courage. “I came because… because I found something in the staff pantry when I was cleaning up the mess from the party.”
Dominic’s eyes sharpened. He sat up immediately. “What did you find?”
Sophia reached into the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a small, folded piece of heavy cardstock paper, laying it flat on the mahogany wood between them.
Dominic leaned forward. It was a formal business card, embossed with a silver crest he hadn't seen in five years.
Salvatore Romano.
The name of the ruthless New Jersey shipping magnate who had tried to muscle in on Dominic’s Hudson River terminals three years ago—and who had quietly vanished from the underworld after a bloody turf war that left half of Jersey City burning.
“Romano?” Dominic muttered, his brow furrowing. “Salvatore is dead. His syndicate collapsed after his daughter’s betrayal in Long Island two years ago.”
“He might be dead to the police,” Sophia said, her voice dropping lower. “Or he might have changed his name. But look at the handwriting on the back of the card, sir. Read what’s written there.”
Dominic turned the card over. Scrawled in sharp, hurried ink was a single line of directions: Westchester Estate, East Wing Service Elevator, Code 4-8-9-2. Deliver the package before the boy cuts the cake.
Dominic stared at the card, the pieces of the puzzle violently snapping into place. Viktor Vance hadn't acted alone out of ideological spite. He had been bought off by the remnants of the Romano syndicate, using the insider access of the estate to strike at the heart of the Moretti family.
“You have a good eye, Sophia,” Dominic said, looking up at her with a new, profound level of respect. “Most people would have thrown that card in the trash without looking twice.”
“Most people don't spend six years cleaning up after men who leave their secrets lying around,” she replied calmly.
Dominic stood up, walking around the desk until he was standing close to her again. The air between them shifted, charged with an unspoken tension—not of fear, but of an alliance forged in the dark.
“From this moment on,” Dominic said, his voice firm and absolute, “you are no longer head housekeeper, Sophia.”
She blinked, startled. “Sir?”
“You are my chief of administrative security,” Dominic corrected smoothly. “Your salary triples starting tonight. Your quarters are being moved to the main family wing, adjacent to Ethan’s suite. And anyone who so much as looks at you or your daughter sideways answers directly to me.”
May you like
Sophia opened her mouth to argue, but looking into Dominic’s unyielding eyes, she realized arguing with a Moretti was a waste of breath. Instead, a slow, genuine smile touched the corners of her lips.
“Thank you, Dominic,” she said softly, using his first name for the very first time.
