Chapter 9 - THE MAFIA KING'S CHOICE
Niko Moretti had spent nine years preparing for the possibility that his uncle was alive.
He had imagined rage.
Violence.
Revenge.
What he hadn't imagined was Ava Monroe standing beside him when the call finally came.
Salvatore's voice filled the office.
“You've grown into your father's chair, Niko.”
Niko looked at the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Close enough.”
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“You'll have to be more specific.”
Salvatore laughed.
“Still pretending you're cleverer than me.”
Niko's expression remained calm.
Ava recognized that stillness now.
It wasn't peace.
It was restraint.
Salvatore continued.
“Eleanor should have destroyed those dresses.”
“She didn't.”
“Then she's still as stubborn as I remember.”
Ava stepped forward.
Niko glanced at her.
She held out her hand.
He hesitated.
Then gave her the phone.
“Salvatore Moretti?”
Silence.
“Who is this?”
“Ava Monroe.”
The silence deepened.
Then Salvatore laughed.
“Eleanor's little girl.”
Ava gripped the phone.
“My mother is alive.”
“I know.”
“And you're going to leave her alone.”
“Or what?”
Ava looked at the embroidered garments spread across the table.
“Or I release everything.”
Salvatore stopped laughing.
“You don't understand what you're holding.”
“Then explain it.”
“Your mother stole from my family.”
“No.”
Ava's voice steadied.
“She kept records of what your family stole from her.”
Niko watched her.
Salvatore's tone changed.
“Careful, girl.”
Ava felt fear move through her.
But she didn't lower her voice.
“I'm not ten anymore.”
She ended the call.
Then realized her hands were shaking.
Niko took the phone.
“You shouldn't have done that.”
Ava looked at him.
“Probably not.”
He almost smiled.
Then he said:
“But I'm glad you did.”
***
The following days brought threats.
Anonymous messages.
Suspicious vehicles.
A fire at one of the old Bellwether storage facilities.
Ava was frightened.
She admitted it.
Niko arranged additional protection, but he didn't order her to stop working.
That mattered.
She continued decoding the garments.
The Rose Ledger was more extensive than anyone expected.
It documented payments to shell companies, forged licensing agreements, and financial transactions connecting Victoria Whitmore to Salvatore Moretti.
But one name appeared repeatedly.
Lorenzo Moretti.
Ava stared at it.
“Niko.”
He approached.
“What?”
She pointed.
“Your father signed some of these transactions.”
Niko read the page.
His face changed.
Ava waited.
Finally he said:
“I need to verify this.”
She looked at him.
“Are you going to protect him?”
“No.”
“Even now?”
He looked at the photograph of Lorenzo on his desk.
“Especially now.”
***
Niko contacted an independent forensic accountant.
The findings were devastating.
Lorenzo had initially financed Salvatore's operation.
He had known counterfeit luxury goods were being moved through the Bellwether network.
He had profited.
Then Eleanor discovered the scheme.
She threatened exposure.
Lorenzo tried to negotiate.
Eventually he turned against Salvatore.
But not before participating in the fraud.
Niko sat alone with the report for hours.
Ava found him in his office after midnight.
The lights were off.
Only the city illuminated his face.
“Are you angry with me?”
He looked up.
“No.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“Because I don't know how to talk about him.”
Ava sat beside him.
“Your father?”
Niko nodded.
“I spent nine years believing he died trying to stop something evil.”
“Maybe he did.”
“He helped build it first.”
Ava looked at him.
“Both can be true.”
He turned.
She continued.
“People can do terrible things and later try to stop them. That doesn't erase what they did.”
Niko stared at her.
“Your father helped hide your mother.”
“Yes.”
“And you still want him to tell the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Even if it sends him to prison?”
Ava swallowed.
“Yes.”
Niko looked down.
“Then I suppose I owe you the same honesty.”
He opened a drawer.
Removed a sealed envelope.
Inside was a letter from Lorenzo.
Dated one week before his death.
Niko handed it to Ava.
She read.
If anything happens to me, tell Eleanor I am sorry. I should have listened when she first came to me. I thought I could control Salvatore. I was wrong.
Below it:
The black rose belongs to her. Not to us.
Ava's eyes filled.
Niko whispered:
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew what my uncle was capable of.”
Ava touched his hand.
For the first time, he didn't look like a mafia king.
He looked like a son grieving the father he thought he'd known.
***
Their first kiss happened two nights later.
Not because Niko saved her.
Not because she needed protection.
It happened after they spent six hours sorting documents and arguing over the interpretation of one contract.
Ava laughed at something he said.
Niko looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I know.”
She stopped smiling.
The room became quiet.
Niko stepped closer.
“May I kiss you?”
Ava's heart raced.
“Yes.”
The kiss was gentle.
Careful.
Nothing like the violence associated with his name.
When they separated, Ava looked at him.
“This complicates things.”
“Considerably.”
“I won't become another woman whose work disappears behind a powerful man's name.”
Niko touched her cheek.
“I wouldn't ask you to.”
She studied him.
“Promise?”
“No.”
She frowned.
He continued.
“I won't ask you to trust promises. I'll give you reasons.”
Ava kissed him again.
***
The next morning, Matteo arrived with urgent news.
The forensic accountant had identified the final missing account.
Forty-eight million dollars.
The money Victoria had received for Eleanor's stolen designs.
It hadn't disappeared.
It had been moved into a trust.
Ava stared at the beneficiary's name.
AVA MONROE.
Her mother had arranged it.
Before the attack.
The money legally belonged to Ava.
But the trust had never been activated.
Because its release required one document.
Eleanor Monroe's original signature.
May you like
A signature Victoria had spent eighteen years ensuring Eleanor could never provide.
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