Chapter 5 – The Hidden Ledger
By three in the morning, silence had returned to the estate, though sleep remained out of reach for everyone under the Moretti roof.
In his ground-floor study, Dominic sat behind a massive mahogany desk, analyzing the decrypted files recovered from Viktor Vance’s laptop. Long strings of offshore banking transactions, fraudulent shipping receipts, and encrypted messages scrolled across twin displays.
A soft, hesitant knock came from the heavy door.
“Enter,” Dominic called out, his eyes remaining fixed on the screen.
The door creaked open, and Sophia stepped into the room. She had traded her housekeeper’s uniform for dark jeans and a plain knit sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. In her hand, she carried a mug of black coffee, setting it quietly on the edge of his desk.
“You ought to be asleep, Sophia,” Dominic said, leaning back into his leather armchair and massaging the bridge of his nose.
“I couldn’t,” she said softly, resting her hands against her sides. “Dr. Harris checked on Ethan an hour ago. His vitals are completely normal. The fever hasn’t come back.”
Dominic gave a slow nod. “Good. Your daughter saved his life tonight. I won’t forget that, Sophia.”
“I’m not looking for a reward, Mr. Moretti,” she replied calmly, her tone carrying an unexpected, steady quiet strength. “I came because… I found something in the pantry while cleaning up after the party.”
Dominic sat up straight, his focus sharpening. “What did you find?”
Sophia reached into her sweater pocket, pulled out a folded square of heavy cardstock, and laid it flat on the mahogany surface between them.
Dominic leaned in. It was an embossed business card featuring a silver emblem he hadn’t seen in half a decade.
Salvatore Romano.
The former head of the New Jersey syndicate who had attempted to seize control of Dominic’s Hudson River docks three years prior—a man who had vanished from the criminal underworld following a brutal gang war that scorched half of Jersey City.
“Romano?” Dominic muttered, his brow furrowing. “Salvatore is dead. His network dissolved two years ago after his daughter turned on him in Long Island.”
“He might be dead to the authorities,” Sophia whispered, leaning closer. “Or he took a new name. But look at the back, sir. Read the handwriting.”
Dominic flipped the card over. Written in hasty, jagged strokes was a single line of instructions: Westchester Estate, East Wing Service Elevator, Code 4-8-9-2. Deliver the package before the boy cuts the cake.
The remaining pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Viktor Vance hadn’t acted on his own out of personal malice. He had been bought by the remnants of Romano’s syndicate, exploiting his security clearance to strike at the core of the Moretti family.
“You’re observant, Sophia,” Dominic said, meeting her eyes with a newfound sense of respect. “Most would have swept that card into the trash without a second thought.”
“Most people haven’t spent six years cleaning up after men who leave their secrets behind,” she answered evenly.
Dominic rose from his chair and walked around the desk, stopping just in front of her. The tension in the room shifted—no longer driven by fear, but by an unwritten pact forged in crisis.
“Starting now,” Dominic declared, his voice firm and unwavering, “you are no longer the head housekeeper, Sophia.”
She blinked, taken aback. “Sir?”
“You are my chief of administrative security,” Dominic corrected smoothly. “Your salary triples as of tonight. Your quarters are moving to the main family wing, right next to Ethan’s suite. And anyone who so much as looks at you or Lily the wrong way will answer to me.”
Sophia opened her mouth to protest, but looking into Dominic’s resolved gaze, she knew arguing was futile. Instead, a faint, genuine smile appeared on her lips.
“Thank you, Dominic,” she said softly, speaking his first name for the very first time.
