Chapter 4 - ISABELLA FINALLY TOLD HIM EVERYTHING
Isabella returned to Greystone at six.
She came through the front door wearing the same white blouse.
No red coat.
No smile.
Alessandro waited in the small library rather than his office.
She stopped three feet inside.
“Emma?”
“Safe.”
Her shoulders collapsed.
“Thank God.”
Alessandro said nothing.
Isabella looked at Marco.
Then Nora.
Then at Alessandro again.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“Luca.”
She nodded.
“Three weeks ago he called me.”
Her voice shook.
“He said someone had broken into his apartment.”
“Enzo?”
“Luca didn’t know.”
“He does now.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“He went downstairs because someone was screaming in the alley. They took him.”
The first video arrived an hour later.
Luca tied to a chair.
Enzo beside him.
No mask.
No altered voice.
Because Enzo wanted Isabella to know exactly which family had her brother.
“What did he ask first?”
“Your calendar.”
“Then?”
“The office bug.”
“Why you?”
She laughed sadly.
“Because you trusted me.”
Alessandro felt the words.
“And because I could enter your office without anyone questioning it.”
“Marco would.”
“He knew Marco’s schedule.”
Alessandro looked toward his right-hand man.
Marco’s face hardened.
Enzo had studied them all.
Isabella continued.
“He wanted conversations about Bellport Terminal.”
The terminal was a legitimate Moretti-controlled shipping property undergoing a billion-dollar redevelopment.
“What about it?”
“He said documents are hidden beneath the old customs house.”
Marco frowned.
“There’s nothing there.”
Isabella looked at him.
“He believes the black ledger is.”
Alessandro turned.
“Is it?”
Marco hesitated.
Then:
“Your father once kept a private safe beneath that building.”
Of course.
More secrets.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Marco met his eyes.
“Because I thought it was empty.”
“That answer is becoming useless.”
“I know.”
Isabella continued.
“Enzo thinks your father moved the ledger before he died.”
“And the bug was supposed to catch me discussing it.”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t know it existed.”
“That’s why Enzo started getting angry.”
Her eyes filled.
“He accused me of protecting you.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
That answer hurt in a different way.
“I moved the bug once.”
“What?”
“The second night.”
“Why?”
“So it wouldn’t pick up your desk clearly.”
Alessandro stared.
That explained poor audio Marco had noticed.
“I told Enzo it slipped.”
“And he believed you?”
“He broke Luca’s finger.”
Silence.
Isabella looked away.
“I stopped helping you after that.”
Alessandro felt his anger turn inward.
Not guilt for Enzo’s violence.
But understanding.
There are situations where courage from a distance sounds cheap.
“What did Enzo say about Emma?”
“I didn’t know he knew about her.”
“Think.”
Isabella pressed both hands against her forehead.
“The morning after I planted the bug, he asked whether anyone had entered the office.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
“He asked about staff children.”
Nora’s face hardened.
“What exactly?”
Isabella looked ashamed.
“He said children notice things because adults don’t lower their voices around them.”
Emma, drawing at the table, looked up.
“True.”
Nobody laughed.
Alessandro asked:
“Why is Enzo doing this now?”
Isabella swallowed.
“Because you’re getting married.”
He stared.
“What does that change?”
“Your trust.”
Marco understood first.
“Succession.”
Alessandro’s legitimate holding company remained controlled through a family trust written decades earlier.
If Alessandro died unmarried and childless, voting control temporarily passed to the senior Moretti branch.
Enzo.
Marriage changed that.
Isabella would receive a spousal voting interest.
Any future child would supersede Enzo entirely.
Alessandro’s face became cold.
“He isn’t just looking for the ledger.”
“No.”
Isabella looked at him.
“He wants leverage to force you to delay the wedding and transfer Bellport control.”
“Or?”
“He said if you refused, he would release recordings selectively.”
“Of criminal conversations.”
“Yes.”
There had been some.
Enough to ruin lives.
Enough to start investigations.
Not enough to justify what Enzo had done.
But Enzo counted on Alessandro caring more about his empire than Luca.
Or Emma.
Or Isabella.
That assumption enraged him because five years earlier it might have been correct.
Alessandro asked:
“What is his next instruction?”
Isabella removed a second phone from inside her blouse.
“He texted twenty minutes ago.”
Marco read it.
TONIGHT. TELL HIM YOU OVERHEARD MARCO SAY THE LEDGER MOVES FRIDAY. CONFIRM BELLPORT.
Alessandro looked at Marco.
“Perfect.”
Marco almost smiled.
“We feed him what he wants.”
Isabella stared.
“And Luca?”
“We bring him home.”
Her eyes filled.
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
Alessandro stepped closer.
“I can promise I will not use him as expendable bait.”
That mattered to her.
He continued.
“You will send Enzo exactly what he expects.”
“And then?”
“We move a false ledger Friday.”
Marco understood.
“Enzo follows.”
“Or sends someone.”
Nora asked:
“What happens to Emma?”
Alessandro looked at her.
“You leave Greystone tonight.”
Nora stiffened.
“No.”
“That was not an order.”
It had sounded like one.
He corrected.
“There is a protected apartment in Manhattan. Not family-owned. Federal team can secure it.”
“Federal?”
Everyone looked at him.
Alessandro’s decision had already been made.
“If Enzo kidnapped Luca and Emma, I am not handling this inside the family.”
Marco’s eyebrows rose.
“You call the government?”
“Yes.”
“That opens doors you may not close.”
“Good.”
The answer surprised even Alessandro.
Isabella stared.
“You’re willing to expose yourself?”
“I’m willing to expose Enzo.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
No.
It wasn’t.
Alessandro looked toward Emma.
She was coloring the onyx cuff link black.
Then he looked at Isabella.
“My office contains conversations I won’t be proud to explain.”
Silence.
“But if I protect myself by leaving Luca in a chair somewhere and teaching Emma that powerful men never answer to anyone, then I’ve learned nothing.”
Marco studied him.
“You sound different.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Maybe that’s helping.”
That night Isabella sent the false message.
Enzo replied with one word.
GOOD.
Then another arrived.
PROVE IT.
Attached was a live photograph.
Luca sat against a concrete wall.
Bruised.
Alive.
Beside him was a newspaper showing that day’s date.
And behind his chair—
barely visible—
was a painted number.
18.
Marco enlarged it.
Alessandro recognized the wall markings.
Old Moretti cold-storage facilities on the North Shore had numbered loading bays exactly that way.
There were only three abandoned properties with a Bay 18.
Marco pointed at one.
“Glen Cove.”
Isabella stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
She glared.
“Do not.”
Alessandro stopped.
She had heard enough orders too.
“What do you want?”
“To be there when my brother comes out.”
He thought.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
They left before midnight with federal tactical officers waiting two miles away.
For the first time in Alessandro Moretti’s adult life, he was driving toward a family problem with government agents behind him.
Marco glanced at him.
“Your father is spinning.”
“Good.”
At 12:41, they reached the cold-storage property.
Bay 18 was empty.
Chair.
Ropes.
Blood.
No Luca.
Isabella made a broken sound.
Then Alessandro saw the message painted on the wall.
Not for Isabella.
For him.
WELCOME TO THE WEDDING, COUSIN.
Below it:
BRING THE GIRL WHO DRAWS.
Enzo no longer wanted only the ledger.
He wanted Emma.
May you like
And this time he had made the threat personal.
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