Chapter 4 - The Empire in Mourning
Z
In Chicago, Damian Moretti had turned his home into a command center.
Security officers occupied the entrance hall. Lawyers arrived with briefcases. Investigators moved between the library and the private office. Phones rang at all hours.
Every person in the house had been instructed to find Claire.
No one had been instructed to force her to return.
Damian repeated that distinction whenever Vincent raised concerns.
"I want to know she's alive and safe," Damian said.
"You also want to see her."
"Of course I want to see her."
"Wanting isn't permission."
Damian looked at his longtime lieutenant.
"Have you decided to become my marriage counselor?"
"No, sir. I'm trying to keep you from making the worst mistake of your life twice."
Damian's jaw tightened.
Vincent had served him for twelve years. He had survived ambushes, arrests, and a war between rival crews. He was one of the few men who could speak plainly to Damian and keep his job.
"Explain."
"You were absent when your wife needed you. Don't become another man who ignores what she wants because you're afraid of losing her."
Damian turned toward the window.
Outside, the city glittered beneath a thin layer of snow.
He had ordered flowers to be sent to the hospital. He had arranged a private funeral service. He had instructed his staff to prepare a nursery that now stood untouched at the end of the upstairs hall.
Every action had been too late.
"Did Claire leave because of Alessia?" he asked.
Vincent took a breath.
"That was part of it."
Damian turned.
"Part?"
"She had been dealing with your affair for months. The vacation was the last straw, but it wasn't the first."
Damian said nothing.
He remembered Claire asking him about Alessia in the kitchen. He remembered answering that she was being paranoid. He remembered accusing her of trying to control him.
He had thought the argument would pass.
He had assumed she would still be there when he came home.
"What happened to Alessia?" he asked.
"She returned to her apartment."
"Has she contacted me?"
"Several times."
"Tell her not to."
Vincent nodded.
Damian picked up the fourteen-second video again.
The baby's tiny chest rose and fell.
"Daddy's coming home to you."
He pressed the phone against the desk.
"Get me the flight records. I want every minute accounted for."
"Sir?"
"From the moment Claire called the first time until I landed in Chicago. I want to know what delayed us."
Vincent's expression grew cautious.
"The weather was clear for most of the route."
"Then find out."
Within two hours, Damian learned that the aircraft had been ready to depart much earlier than it had.
The delay had come from a private meeting with Alessia and two associates who had insisted on discussing a business opportunity before the flight.
Damian had agreed to stay.
He had believed he could spare another hour.
The knowledge settled over him like ice.
No one had held him prisoner.
No one had prevented him from leaving.
He had chosen to remain.
When Vincent returned, Damian did not ask for another report.
He sat alone in the nursery, staring at the empty crib.
At dawn, he removed the mobile hanging above it and placed it in a box.
He could not keep pretending the room was waiting for his son.
Gabriel was gone.
Claire was gone.
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And for the first time, Damian understood that his empire had not protected him from loss.
It had merely taught him to believe that loss was something that happened to other people.
