Chapter 9 - The Price They Put on Emma
The threat should have frightened me.
Instead, it made me angry.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Luca.
“You are not going to the office.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“Stop saying that word to me.”
“It’s efficient.”
“It’s irritating.”
“There was a threat.”
“There was blackmail.”
“Exactly.”
“So we find out what they have.”
Luca stared at me as if I had proposed skydiving without a parachute.
“No.”
“Again?”
“Emma, whoever sent that letter has already accessed private records.”
“And hiding in your grandmother’s mansion fixes that?”
“It keeps you safe while Sienna investigates.”
I folded my arms.
“Safe is not the same as powerless.”
His expression shifted.
He understood.
That was the problem with loving an intelligent control freak.
He eventually understood arguments well enough to become dangerous in new ways.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“To know what they think they have.”
Sienna entered the room.
“We may have an answer.”
She placed a folder in front of us.
Inside were copies of financial records.
My father’s company.
Ten years earlier.
The partnership collapse.
Tax liens.
Lawsuits.
Debts.
Nothing criminal.
Everything humiliating.
My chest tightened.
“They’re going after my father.”
Luca’s face darkened.
“Not if I can stop it.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“What?”
“You do not pay anything.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You were thinking it.”
He didn’t deny it.
“My father rebuilt his life. He doesn’t need Luca Moretti buying the past.”
“This isn’t charity.”
“Then what is it?”
“Protection.”
“I don’t want protection that makes me indebted to you.”
His expression softened painfully.
“You could never owe me.”
“That’s easy for the billionaire to say.”
Sienna interrupted gently.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
One record showed a transfer connected to my father’s former business partner, Gregory Wells.
A payment had been made three months earlier.
From a consultancy tied indirectly to Rinaldi Capital.
My stomach dropped.
“They paid him?”
“Looks like it.”
“For what?”
Sienna slid another paper forward.
An affidavit.
Gregory Wells claimed my father had participated knowingly in the accounting irregularities that destroyed their firm.
“That’s a lie.”
“I believe you,” Luca said immediately.
“My father was the one who reported him.”
“I know.”
I looked at Sienna.
“Can they publish this?”
“They can leak it.”
“Then news sites repeat it.”
“Yes.”
“And Luca’s board sees his girlfriend’s family connected to financial fraud.”
“Yes.”
The plan became clear.
Not sophisticated.
Just cruel.
Damage me enough to damage Luca.
A message arrived on my phone.
Unknown number.
Leave Moretti Holdings by noon tomorrow.
No lawsuit.
No press.
No investigation into your father.
A second message appeared.
Your choice.
I showed Luca.
He went completely still.
“I’ll resign.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
“No.”
“My father—”
“Will be defended.”
“You don’t decide that.”
“Neither do they.”
I stood.
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No, Luca.”
My voice cracked.
“My father lost everything once because somebody he trusted decided money mattered more than loyalty.”
I swallowed.
“I watched him stop sleeping. I watched my mother sell jewelry because he refused to hide assets while lawsuits were happening. I watched him start over at fifty-two.”
Luca’s anger faded.
“I won’t let them drag him through that again because of me.”
“Because of me,” Luca said quietly.
We looked at each other.
“That is why I should leave.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then they learn you can be used against me forever.”
The words hurt.
I stepped back.
“So I am a vulnerability.”
His face changed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But it’s true.”
“No.”
“Victor knew.”
“Victor is wrong.”
“He identified me six weeks ago as your weakness.”
Luca came closer.
“He identified the only person I would refuse to sacrifice.”
I stopped.
“That isn’t weakness.”
His voice lowered.
“It’s the first decent thing about me.”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
Then the front doorbell rang.
A staff member entered.
“Ms. Bennett has a visitor.”
Luca frowned.
“Who?”
“My father.”
I froze.
“What?”
Minutes later, Thomas Bennett entered the sitting room wearing an old wool coat covered in snow.
He was sixty-three, tall, graying, and looked exactly as he always had when someone threatened his family.
Calm.
Tired.
Dangerous in the quietest possible way.
“Dad.”
He hugged me first.
Then stepped back.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re lying.”
“Little.”
His gaze moved toward Luca.
“So.”
Luca straightened.
“Mr. Bennett.”
“You’re the billionaire.”
Julian, sitting across the room, nearly choked.
Luca extended his hand.
Thomas ignored it.
“You love my daughter?”
I closed my eyes.
“Dad.”
Luca answered.
“Yes.”
My father looked at him for several seconds.
“Did you make her cry?”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
“Yes.”
“How recently?”
“This morning.”
Julian turned away to hide laughter.
I wanted the floor to open.
My father finally shook Luca’s hand.
“At least you don’t lie well.”
That was debatable.
Thomas sat down.
“I got a call.”
My stomach tightened.
“From who?”
“Gregory Wells.”
The room changed.
“What did he want?”
“To warn me.”
“Warn you?”
Thomas nodded.
“He says somebody paid him to sign that affidavit.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Who?”
“He won’t tell me by phone.”
“Where is he?”
“New Jersey.”
Sienna immediately reached for her phone.
My father raised a hand.
“There’s more.”
We all waited.
“Gregory says he kept copies of everything.”
“What everything?” I asked.
“The payments. Emails. Instructions.”
Luca’s gaze sharpened.
“If those records show Rinaldi or Victor—”
“They could prove coordination,” Sienna finished.
For the first time in days, hope appeared.
Then my father looked at me.
“There’s a problem.”
Of course.
“What?”
“Gregory won’t hand anything over to lawyers.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t trust them.”
Luca almost smiled without humor.
“Smart.”
“He says he’ll only speak to Emma.”
Every head turned toward me.
Luca immediately said, “No.”
I looked at him.
Then at my father.
Then at Sienna.
For days I had been the woman everyone wanted to protect, remove, use, threaten, or control.
I was done.
“I’m going.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“Emma.”
“No.”
I picked up my coat.
“This time, you follow my plan.”
May you like
And for perhaps the first time in Luca Moretti’s life, he did.
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