Chapter 9 – The True Legacy Of Catherine Moretti

The evening dinner was the quietest, most peaceful meal the mansion had seen in three years.

Thomas sat at the head of the long mahogany table, wearing a crisp new suit. I sat to his right, no longer in a maid’s uniform, but in a simple, elegant navy dress Clara had lent me. Clara sat on Luca’s left, with Sophie bouncing happily between them.

There were no business partners. No fake smiles. Just the people who mattered.

“Grandpa Tommy, do you want me to cut your steak?” Sophie asked, reaching for his plate with absolute sincerity.

Thomas smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Thank you, sweetheart, but my hands are feeling surprisingly steady tonight.”

He picked up his knife and fork, managing perfectly on his own. The tremors that had plagued him were gone—a symptom not of arthritis, but of three years of constant, crushing anxiety.

After dinner, Luca poured a round of vintage red wine, offering a small glass of apple juice to Sophie.

“To Catherine,” Luca said, raising his glass.

“To Catherine,” we echoed.

As we drank, one of Luca’s lieutenants, Marco, stepped into the dining room. He looked uncomfortable interrupting.

“Boss,” Marco said quietly. “We have a problem in the cellar.”

Luca set his glass down, the warmth leaving his face. “What is it?”

“It’s Vanessa,” Marco said. “She’s awake. And she’s demanding to speak to you. She says if you kill her, you’ll never find the final piece of Elias Thorne’s insurance policy.”

Luca frowned. “We have the ledgers. The Commission already voted this afternoon. The Bellinis are officially excommunicated. What insurance policy?”

“She wouldn’t say. But she said it involves the docks.”

Luca sighed, his jaw tightening. He looked at Clara and Sophie. “Excuse me for a moment.”

He walked out of the dining room.

I looked at Thomas. The old man’s brow was furrowed.

“The docks?” Thomas muttered. “Catherine used to own the shipping containers on the east pier before she died. They were supposed to pass to Sophie when she turned eighteen.”

I stood up. “I’m going with him.”

Thomas nodded. “Watch his back, Hannah. A cornered snake is the most dangerous.”

I hurried down the hallway and followed Luca down the stone steps into the cold, damp cellar.

Vanessa was chained to a heavy iron pipe in the center of the room. Her beautiful face was bruised, her designer clothes ruined. But her eyes were still sharp, burning with venom.

“Luca,” she smirked as he approached. “Did you enjoy your family dinner?”

“What do you want, Vanessa?” Luca asked coldly.

“I want a plane ticket to Geneva. And ten million dollars from the untraceable accounts,” she demanded.

“You’re in no position to negotiate.”

“Oh, but I am,” Vanessa laughed bitterly. “You found the ledgers, yes. But Elias wasn’t stupid. He knew the Commission might turn on us. So, he took collateral.”

“What collateral?”

Vanessa leaned forward, her chains rattling.

“The shipping containers on the east pier,” she whispered. “The ones in Catherine’s name. Elias didn’t just steal money, Luca. He used those containers to smuggle weapons for the Russian syndicate. And the paperwork… the signatures on the customs forms… they aren’t Elias’s.”

Luca froze.

“He forged Catherine’s signature?” Luca asked, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.

“No,” Vanessa smiled, showing bloody teeth. “He forged yours, Luca. If the feds open those containers tomorrow morning, they will find enough military-grade hardware to put the entire Moretti family in federal prison for three lifetimes. And your name is on every single manifest.”

TITLE: The Midnight Fire At The Docks

Share