Chapter 3 - The Broken Seal
""Victor,"" Dante said without turning around.
""Yes, Boss?""
""Bring Dr. Julian Croft to the penthouse immediately. Tell him to bring a rapid genetic sequencer and sterile swabs. If he asks why, tell him his clinic's funding depends on his speed.""
Vivien gasped, stepping backward until her shoulder hit the mahogany bookshelf. ""No! You aren't touching her! Isla has nothing to do with your criminal feuds! She is an innocent child!""
""If she has nothing to do with me, you have nothing to fear,"" Dante answered coldly, though his eyes never left the girl's face. ""Marcus, take Ms. Bennett and the child into the guest suite across the hall. Ensure they have hot tea, fresh blankets, and whatever the child wants to eat. But nobody leaves that room. If a single hair on that girl's head is harmed, Victor, you will answer to me personally.""
""Understood, Mr. Moretti,"" Victor replied, opening the heavy door.
As Vivien was ushered across the corridor, clutching Isla tightly against her chest, Adrien Cole stepped into the study from the side entrance. Adrien was Dante’s right-hand advisor, the sharp-eyed strategist who had managed the Moretti family’s legitimate investments and corporate buyouts since their college days. He wore an expensive gray flannel suit, his silver hair neatly slicked back, carrying an iPad and a glass of sparkling water.
""Dante, the guests downstairs are growing extremely restless,"" Adrien said, adjusting his spectacles. ""Senator Sterling has an early flight to Washington, and the banking syndicate is asking why your private security has locked the ballroom gates. It looks like a hostage situation.""
""Let them wait,"" Dante said, pouring himself a fresh glass of bourbon from the crystal decanter. His hand was remarkably steady now—the erratic shock had metabolized into pure, focused venom. ""Cancel the gala. Send everyone home, but photograph every driver's license at the valet stand before their cars leave the driveway.""
Adrien frowned, taking a seat opposite the desk. ""Did the event coordinator do something? Was there a security breach with the child?""
""Isabella didn't die in the collision, Adrien.""
The crystal glass in Adrien's hand trembled ever so slightly. A single drop of water splashed onto the polished mahogany. ""What are you talking about? Dante, you've had too much bourbon. We closed that chapter years ago. We tracked down the truck driver; he was an intoxicated dockworker who lost control of his rig. You avenged her.""
""The truck was a distraction,"" Dante said, staring right through his lifelong friend. ""She was taken to St. Brendan's alive. An emergency delivery was performed. A man in a pale blue suit walked out with my daughter.""
Adrien stared at him, his face losing some of its color. ""That sounds like the insane fabrication of an unstable woman trying to extort money from you. Who told you this? The caterer?""
""The nurse who watched it happen,"" Dante replied. ""And the child sleeping in my guest room has Isabella's earlobe mark, Isabella's curls, and memories of a man in a pale blue suit who ordered the doctors to lie.""
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Adrien leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses to polish them with a silk handkerchief. ""A pale blue suit. Dante... that style is eccentric. Only an arrogant bastard in high society would wear something like that to a crime scene.""
""Yes,"" Dante whispered, a grim smile touching the corner of his lips. ""Someone who felt entirely untouchable. Someone who believed that by the time I figured it out, he would already own everything I ever built.""
