Chapter 2 - The Sealed Envelopes of Salvatore Moretti
Dominic’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.
“Marco,” Dominic commanded, his voice vibrating with absolute authority. “Cancel the afternoon trade summit with the European logistics consortium. Bring the convoy around to the front doors.”
“Where are we going, Boss?”
“To Brooklyn,” Dominic replied, looking down at Lily. He gently reached out and took her small hand into his own broad, calloused palm. “Lily, are you hungry?”
“A little,” she said softly. “Mommy only had enough oatmeal for me this morning.”
Dominic's jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched beneath his cheek. He turned to his head concierge. “Bring a box of warm blueberry pastries and hot chocolate from the private lounge for the car.”
Inside the armored Maybach ten minutes later, Lily was happily eating a pastry while Dominic watched her through the tinted windows.
“Why did your mother write letters to my father, Lily?” Dominic asked in a gentle tone nobody in Manhattan had ever heard him use.
“Because when the old Mr. Moretti got sick in the hospital three years ago, he told Mommy to write down every time someone in the office took money that didn't belong to them,” Lily explained innocently, wiping crumbs from her chin. “He told Mommy that when the storm came, she should give the box to his son.”
Dominic stared out at the Manhattan Bridge skyline, a storm of memories crashing through his mind.
Three years ago, his father had passed away following an unexpected, rapid illness. In the chaotic power transition that followed, several executive vice-presidents and family cousins had made aggressive bids to control Moretti Group’s corporate voting shares.
Salvatore Moretti had always maintained a small, untouchable core of trusted administrative personnel who operated outside the family syndicate’s hierarchy.
And Anna Carter was the daughter of Maria Carter—the loyal estate nurse who had sheltered Salvatore during the infamous 1998 Long Island ambush.
Dominic pulled out his phone, dialing his private estate attorney, Julian Hayes.
“Julian,” Dominic spoke with razor-sharp clarity. “Pull the original sealed testamentary covenants from my father’s 2023 safety deposit vault at JPMorgan Chase. Check the annex under the name Carter.”
May you like
Julian’s breath hitched over the encrypted line. “Dominic... how do you know about the Carter Annex? Your father ordered that file sealed until a direct petition was filed.”
“I’m looking at the reason right now,” Dominic said, watching Lily adjust her rabbit’s ears. “Meet me at 442 Prospect Avenue in twenty minutes.”
