Chapter 13 - THE PARTNER INSIDE MORETTI HOLDINGS
Luca did not open Antonio’s envelope immediately.
He looked at Patrick.
“Why would my father write your name on this?”
Patrick stared at the seal.
“I don’t know.”
“That answer is getting old.”
“I know.”
“You were his CFO.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Bellmore.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Rosa was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Richard was blackmailing him.”
“Yes.”
“So either you know who the partner was…”
Luca leaned closer.
“…or my father suspected you.”
Patrick’s face tightened.
“Open it.”
Luca did.
Antonio’s handwriting filled three pages.
Luca read silently first.
His expression changed.
Then he handed the letter to Daniel.
Daniel read.
“What?”
I asked.
Luca looked at Patrick.
“My father trusted you.”
Patrick closed his eyes.
Relief.
Small.
Visible.
“But he didn’t trust someone else.”
“Who?”
Luca said:
“Malcolm Pierce.”
The board director who had tried to remove Luca as CEO.
Patrick stared.
“No.”
“You know him.”
“Of course.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-five years.”
“Antonio says Malcolm was Richard’s conduit inside Moretti Holdings.”
Patrick shook his head.
“Malcolm joined after Elena died.”
Daniel looked at the letter.
“Not according to Antonio.”
“What?”
“He consulted for the company in 1994.”
Patrick went silent.
Luca read aloud.
“Malcolm Pierce introduced Richard to three offshore structures later used to move Moretti assets.”
A pause.
“After Elena died, Pierce disappeared from the records for seven years.”
Patrick whispered:
“Then came back as an investor.”
“Yes.”
Luca continued.
“Antonio believed Richard used Pierce to hide money from both Moretti and Bellini interests.”
“So Richard had his own empire,” I said.
Daniel nodded.
“Built inside theirs.”
Luca looked at Patrick.
“Why didn’t you know?”
Patrick’s face hardened.
“Because Richard was better than me.”
Nobody expected him to say that.
He continued.
“I thought I understood the company.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Turns out I understood the books Richard wanted me to see.”
Luca folded the letter.
“What does Malcolm control now?”
Daniel already had his laptop open.
“Board votes.”
“Debt relationships.”
“Insurance.”
“Several acquisition committees.”
Vanessa whispered:
“Bellmore?”
Patrick shook his head.
“No.”
Daniel looked up.
“He may not own Bellmore.”
Luca understood.
“But he may control enough Moretti debt outside Bellmore to trigger a crisis.”
Exactly.
Richard was dead.
David was arrested.
Carlo was under investigation.
But Malcolm Pierce remained inside Luca’s company.
Sitting at the board table.
Voting.
Watching.
Waiting.
We returned to Chicago that night.
Malcolm’s office was empty.
His assistant said he had flown to New York.
Daniel checked.
No flight.
His phone was off.
Then news broke.
Anonymous documents had been sent to three newspapers.
Antonio’s Bellini financing.
Old cash transfers.
Photographs of Luca’s father with known organized-crime figures.
The scandal exploded before midnight.
Moretti Holdings’ publicly traded affiliate fell twelve percent in after-hours trading.
By morning, lenders were calling.
Employees were whispering.
Reporters stood outside the mansion.
Malcolm had made his move.
The emergency board meeting began at nine.
I was not in the room.
This time I stayed with Teresa in an office nearby.
But voices carried.
Malcolm appeared by video.
From somewhere anonymous.
He looked calm.
“Luca, in light of the emerging evidence concerning your father’s criminal financing—”
“My father is dead.”
“The issue is corporate exposure.”
“Then discuss corporate exposure.”
“I am.”
“No.”
Luca’s voice remained controlled.
“You’re using my father to force a leadership vote.”
Malcolm smiled.
“Your personal life has destabilized the company.”
“Which part?”
Luca asked.
“My fiancée committing fraud?”
A pause.
“My executive being murdered?”
Another.
“Or you helping Richard Hale steal from this company for twenty-five years?”
Silence.
Even through the wall, I felt it.
Malcolm’s smile disappeared.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good.”
Luca said.
“Then you won’t mind explaining it to federal investigators.”
The video call ended.
Malcolm disconnected.
An hour later, the board voted.
Six to five.
Luca remained CEO.
Barely.
Then Daniel entered our office.
“We have a bigger problem.”
“What?” Teresa asked.
“Three lenders accelerated clauses this morning.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Nine hundred and twelve million dollars.”
The same amount tied to hidden debt structures.
Luca entered behind him.
He looked exhausted.
But focused.
“How long?”
Daniel answered:
“Seventy-two hours.”
Teresa stared.
“Until what?”
“Default.”
I had worked around wealthy people long enough to know default did not mean Luca suddenly became poor.
It meant control.
Assets sold.
Projects frozen.
Board removed.
Company broken apart.
Malcolm had leaked Antonio’s past to trigger the very financial collapse Elena had once feared.
Luca looked at Patrick.
“Can Bellmore counter?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Patrick shook his head.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Bellmore’s counter-signature requires the beneficiary authorization.”
“I’m the beneficiary.”
“Not yet.”
Luca stared.
“What?”
Patrick looked sick.
“Your mother’s trust controls it until you turn forty.”
Luca was thirty-nine.
His birthday was four months away.
“So who can authorize?”
Patrick looked toward Teresa.
Then Rosa.
Then at the document Elena had created.
“The community beneficiary.”
Teresa stared.
“Me?”
“Caruso Community Foundation.”
“There is no foundation.”
Patrick nodded.
“Exactly.”
Daniel swore.
The beneficiary did not legally exist.
Meaning Bellmore’s protective power was frozen.
Unless the original trust could prove another route.
The same original trust that had disappeared.
Luca stood.
“Find it.”
Vanessa whispered:
“I know where Malcolm may have taken it.”
Everyone turned.
“How?”
“Richard told me there was one place he trusted more than any bank.”
“Where?”
Vanessa looked at Luca.
“The old Moretti warehouse on Halsted.”
Patrick’s face changed.
“No.”
Luca noticed.
“What?”
Patrick whispered:
“That building burned in 2003.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“The front building did.”
A pause.
“The underground archive never did.”
Luca looked at Daniel.
Then me.
Then Vanessa.
“We go now.”
But before we could leave, my phone rang.
My mother.
I answered.
She was crying.
“Emma.”
“What happened?”
“Your father’s gone.”
My blood stopped.
“What?”
“He left the clinic.”
“Why?”
“He got a note.”
“What note?”
Mom could barely speak.
“It said Walter Reed left something for him at the Halsted warehouse.”
Everything inside me went cold.
May you like
Malcolm had not only taken the trust.
He had taken my father.
