Chapter 4 - The Library Dossier
The second-floor library was vast, smelling of old leather, aged bourbon, and burning oak from the fireplace that crackled at the far end of the room. Rows upon rows of dark wooden bookshelves stretched upward into the shadows, accessible only by rolling brass ladders.
Alessandro sat behind a massive mahogany desk, a single green-shaded banker’s lamp illuminating the papers spread out before him. He was not wearing his overcoat now; a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms revealed lean, powerful muscles and faint scars that hinted at a violent past.
"Close the door, Marco," Alessandro ordered without looking up.
The heavy door clicked shut behind Sophia, leaving her standing alone in the center of the vast room.
"Sit down, Mrs. Carter," Alessandro said, gesturing to the leather armchair opposite his desk.
Sophia hesitated, then walked over and sat down, keeping her hands neatly folded in her lap. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Moretti?"
Alessandro finally looked up. His amber-flecked eyes—so startlingly similar in intensity to the dog resting outside her door—fixed on her with unblinking scrutiny. He pushed a manila folder across the desk. The cover was stamped with a red confidentiality warning.
Sophia looked at the folder, then back at him. "What is this?"
"Your employment file," Alessandro said smoothly. "Or rather, the sanitized version provided by the domestic agency. Clean background check. Husband deceased three years ago in a construction accident. No criminal record. Single mother trying to rebuild her life in Chicago."
A cold knot formed in Sophia’s stomach. "If my paperwork is in order, why am I here?"
"Because," Alessandro leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, "in my world, people don't just appear out of nowhere. Especially not right after a major security breach in our northern shipping lanes. I wanted to know if your husband's construction accident was really an accident."
Sophia felt the blood drain from her face. "My husband, David, fell four stories off an industrial scaffold because the contractor cut corners on safety equipment! He died on the way to the hospital! What does that have to do with you?"
"David Carter was the chief structural engineer for Vanguard Holdings," Alessandro said quietly, watching her reaction like a hawk. "A company that was quietly bought out by a shell corporation controlled by Viktor Sterling—my primary rival in the East Coast syndicate—three weeks before your husband's death."
Sophia stared at him in stunned silence. The room seemed to tilt slightly. "I... I didn't know that. David only told me he was stressed about the new management. He said they were forcing him to sign off on faulty building permits for the downtown warehouses. When he refused... the scaffold gave way."
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Alessandro’s eyes narrowed. He studied her face for any sign of deceit, any flicker of a lie. What he saw was raw, unfiltered grief and a sudden, terrifying realization.
"Sterling eliminates anyone who stands in his way," Alessandro murmured, leaning back in his chair. "And when he realized David’s widow and child were struggling to survive, his operatives didn't check on you out of kindness. They placed you here."
