Chapter 3 - The Broken Web
By mid-afternoon, the rainstorm outside had intensified, turning the sky over the Hudson into a dark, swirling sea of slate gray.
Inside the Moretti mansion, the tension was thick enough to suffocate a man.
Vincent had moved Lily and me into the private master suite on the third floor—the most secure section of the house, guarded round-the-clock by four armed men under Valeri’s direct command. A private physician had already examined my head, applying a clean bandage to my temple, while Lily played happily on the Persian rug with a brand-new set of wooden blocks Vincent’s men had brought up.
A soft knock echoed at the suite door, and Valeri stepped inside, carrying a sleek black laptop.
"Boss," Valeri said, setting the computer down on the glass coffee table. "Our cyber unit managed to recover forty percent of the overwritten data from the security server's shadow drive. They couldn't get the video feed, but they recovered the electronic door lock logs."
Vincent walked over from the window, a glass of dark scotch in his hand. "Show me."
Valeri tapped the screen. "At 7:12 AM, the service kitchen door was opened using a master keycard. That keycard belonged to Mrs. Hargrove."
My eyes widened. "Mrs. Hargrove?"
"Wait," Valeri continued, swiping to the next screen. "Three minutes later, at 7:15 AM, the security bypass panel in the butler's pantry was accessed using an administrative code. That code was issued specifically to Cassandra Vale two months ago."
"So they were working together," I whispered, sitting on the edge of the plush armchair. "Mrs. Hargrove unlocked the door to give Cassandra access without setting off the hallway sensors."
"Not quite," Vincent said, his voice cold and analytical. "Mrs. Hargrove has been in debt to a syndicate gambling house in Jersey City for three years. I cleared her debts twice out of respect for my father's memory. But three weeks ago, someone paid off her remaining six-hundred-thousand-dollar mortgage in cash."
"Who paid it?" I asked.
"A shell company registered in the Cayman Islands," Valeri answered. "Traced directly back to Senator Julian Vale—Cassandra’s father."
The trap was so intricately laid it was terrifying.
Mrs. Hargrove was the inside agent who knew the estate's routines, Norah was the compliant nanny hired through a Vale-controlled agency to handle the poisoned bottle, and Cassandra was the mastermind steering the execution from the shadows.
Suddenly, the intercom on the wall buzzed.
"Mr. Moretti," a security officer’s voice came through the speaker. "Senator Julian Vale has just arrived at the main gate with four private security vehicles. He’s demanding entry, claiming his daughter is being held against her will."
Vincent took a slow, deliberate sip of his scotch. "Let him in."
"Boss?" Valeri warned, his hand moving reflexively toward his shoulder holster. "Vale has thirty state troopers on his payroll. If he brings official warrants—"
"Let him bring whatever he wants," Vincent interrupted, his eyes flashing with a dark, predatory light. "He came to collect his daughter's prize. It would be rude to keep him waiting in the rain."
Vincent turned to look at me. "Elena, stay here with Lily."
"No," I said instantly, standing up from the armchair.
Vincent paused, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. "This is about to get dangerous, Elena. You and your daughter are safe up here."
"I spent eight months being invisible in this house, Mr. Moretti," I said, my voice steady and firm, meeting his intense gaze without flinching. "They hit me, they tried to frame me, and they tried to use my daughter's presence to cover up a murder. I am not hiding in a bedroom while you handle the people who tried to destroy my life."
May you like
Vincent stared at me for three long seconds. For the first time, the faint trace of a genuine, approving smile touched the corner of his lips.
"Valeri," Vincent commanded, turning toward the door. "Bring the mother and her daughter down to the drawing room. It’s time to host a family gathering."
