Chapter 5 - A Dinner of Consequences
While Emma slept soundly for the first time in three years, high above Central Park in the quiet luxury of the Moretti estate, the corporate battlefields of Manhattan were already swimming in blood.
Luca sat behind a massive mahogany desk in his private study on the third floor. The room was lined with leather-bound ledgers, antique globes, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing the stormy night.
His phone buzzed on the blotter. He tapped speakerphone.
“Report,” Luca commanded.
“Boss, it’s Marcus,” a gravelly voice responded from the secure line. “Hartley’s firm officially filed for Chapter 11 restructuring thirty minutes ago. Vance tried to liquidate their pension fund to cover the deficit, but our auditors froze their accounts before the wire hit.”
“And Derek Hartley?” Luca asked, his voice devoid of pity.
“Fired an hour ago, boss. His landlord already served him an eviction notice for three months of back rent on his Tribeca condo. He’s currently sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner on Lex, drinking cheap coffee and crying into his phone.”
Luca took a slow sip of black coffee, his slate-gray eyes reflecting the amber desk lamp.
“Let him sit,” Luca said coldly. “He wanted the high-society life built on stepping over people who couldn't fight back. Let him see what it feels like to look up from the bottom of the ladder.”
“Understood, boss. What about the girl—Brittany?”
“Leave her,” Luca dismissed with a flick of his wrist. “She’ll destroy herself without our help.”
Luca ended the call and leaned back in his leather chair, staring at a single file folder resting beside his laptop.
Inside the folder was Emma’s complete history. Not just the surface details of her college degree in architecture and her employment records, but the deeper, darker truths: how Derek had systematically gaslit her, isolated her from her college friends, forced her to quit her architectural drafting job when she became pregnant, and threatened to throw her out onto the street if she didn't sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding his finances.
Luca’s jaw clenched. A muscle ticked in his cheek.
For three years, while Luca was consolidating real estate empires across Europe and North America, a brilliant, creative woman had been trapped in a cage a few miles away from his own headquarters, slowly having her spirit crushed by a parasitic nobody.
He closed the folder with a sharp thud.
His phone chimed again—a private internal intercom from the east wing.
May you like
Mrs. Gable’s voice came through, soft and polite. “Mr. Moretti? Miss Emma has woken up. She’s... she’s looking for you.”
Luca stood up immediately, buttoning his vest with crisp precision. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
