Chapter 7 - The Rival’s Gamble
While peace reigned within the limestone walls of the Moretti estate, the corporate sharks of New York were circling in the dark.
In a private, glass-walled boardroom on the fiftieth floor of the Vanderbilt Tower, Victor Thorne—CEO of Thorne Capital and Luca’s most ruthless commercial rival—slapped a stack of financial dossiers onto the glass table.
Sitting across from him was a nervous, disheveled man with dark circles under his eyes and a cheap suit: Derek Hartley.
“So, let me get this straight,” Victor Thorne drawled, swirling a glass of amber scotch as he eyed Derek with undisguised contempt. “You managed to alienate the most powerful woman in your personal life, got yourself fired from your firm, lost your condo, and now you want me to help you destroy Luca Moretti?”
Derek swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he gripped the armrests of his chair. “Mr. Thorne, Moretti broke my firm illegally! He called in our debt portfolio overnight just to steal my ex-girlfriend and her kid! He’s vulnerable right now because he’s distracted by a domestic entanglement!”
Thorne laughed—a cold, humorless sound that echoed off the glass walls.
“Vulnerable? Luca Moretti has never been vulnerable a day in his life,” Thorne said sharply. “The man owns half the commercial zoning from Wall Street to Harlem. But... you do bring up an interesting point.”
Derek perked up, a desperate flicker of hope igniting in his chest. “Sir?”
“Moretti has spent the last forty-eight hours integrating an unknown woman and a newborn infant into his private residence,” Thorne murmured, tapping his chin with a diamond ring. “High society is already whispering. The tabloids are sniffing around the perimeter gates like wolves.”
“If we leak the story to the press,” Derek urged eagerly, leaning forward. “If we prove that Moretti falsified a birth certificate or is hiding a paternity fraud, we can trigger a federal ethics investigation! We can freeze his development permits for the Hudson Yards expansion!”
Victor Thorne stared at Derek for a long, silent moment, sizing up the desperate, pathetic creature sitting before him.
“You really are an idiot, aren't you, Derek?” Thorne said smoothly.
Derek blinked. “Sir?”
“Moretti didn't falsify a birth certificate. He signed a voluntary acknowledgment of paternity under New York State civil health law,” Thorne stated, tossing a printed legal brief onto the table. “Do you know what that means, you fool? It means Moretti didn't just play a trick—he legally adopted that child before the ink was dry. He legally bound his empire to that baby.”
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Derek went pale. “Then... then there’s nothing we can do?”
“On the contrary,” Thorne smiled, a cruel, predatory grin spreading across his face. “If Moretti cares that much about a random waitress and her bastard child... then we simply find a way to make them our leverage.”
