Chapter 9 - THE PRICE OF A SIGNATURE
By evening, the Moretti name was everywhere.
A news van parked beyond the gates.
Online, the story had already become simpler than the truth.
WEALTHY DEVELOPER QUESTIONED IN POISONING SCARE.
HOUSEKEEPER LINKED TO MISSING FUNDS.
Maria’s photograph appeared beneath a headline before anybody had charged her with anything.
Vincent called the company’s communications director.
“Correct it.”
“We need to consider exposure.”
“A woman’s home was burned.”
“I understand, but—”
“Then write something that sounds like you do.”
Nora took the phone from him.
“We’ll issue facts we can support. No accusations. No private details about the child.”
He hated that she was right.
Ruiz had arranged temporary lodging for Maria and Emma through victim services. Vincent offered a hotel.
Maria refused.
“Your brother knows your hotels.”
He couldn’t argue.
Before they left, Emma came to him carrying Lucy.
“Mommy says we can’t go home.”
“Not tonight.”
“Did I make everything bad?”
He crouched.
“No.”
“But before I told you—”
“Someone was already doing something wrong. You told the truth.”
“Then why is Mommy crying?”
Vincent looked at Maria, standing near the door with one borrowed bag.
“Because telling the truth doesn’t make the hurt disappear right away.”
Emma lowered her eyes.
He added, “But none of that hurt is your fault.”
She nodded once, as though she would have to think about it later.
After they left, Nora spread bank records across his kitchen table.
“Your brother didn’t just move money. He built your approval into the process.”
Vincent recognized his signature.
Page after page.
“You said these were routine renewals,” he muttered.
“Who did?”
“Adrian.”
Nora didn’t soften her voice.
“Did you read them?”
He stared at the paper.
“No.”
Outside, a reporter shouted his name through the gates.
Inside, the refrigerator hummed.
All the expensive machinery of his life still worked.
The part that mattered hadn’t.
His private banker called at nine.
Adrian had attempted to move funds from a reserve account.
The bank had held the transfer because Nora had requested a fraud review.
For the first time that day, something had stopped.
Then Nora’s phone rang.
She listened, asked two questions, and hung up.
“What?”
“An emergency board meeting. Tomorrow morning.”
“He doesn’t have the votes.”
“He may.”
“For what?”
“To remove you.”
Vincent looked at his signatures scattered across the table.
May you like
Adrian didn’t need him dead.
He needed him discredited, responsible, and out of the way.
