Chapter 3 - Secrets Beneath the Surface
The morning sun broke over Riverton, painting the skyscrapers in shades of gold and copper, but inside the penthouse, the heavy curtains remained drawn, blocking out the waking world.
I sat at the minimalist marble island in the kitchen, nursing a cup of black coffee Lucas had brewed for me. He had already been awake for hours, moving silently through the apartment, taking phone calls in hushed, lethal tones in his study. Every time a muffled word drifted through the heavy oak door, my stomach tightened into a knot.
I was bringing danger to his doorstep. Even if Lucas Moretti was a man who commanded fear, involving him in my messy, terrifying escape felt reckless.
The study door clicked open, and Lucas walked out. He had changed into a tailored charcoal suit, the crisp white shirt accentuating the dark, sharp angles of his face. He looked like an executioner disguised as a CEO.
“Eat something, Lily,” he commanded gently, noticing the untouched toast on the plate in front of me.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need your strength. Today is when things get complicated.” He pulled out the stool opposite me and sat down, sliding a thick manila folder across the counter.
I stared at the folder. “What is that?”
“Everything my men could dig up on Derek Vance in the last four hours.”
My breath hitched. “Four hours? You investigated my husband in four hours?”
“I told you, I don't leave variables unchecked,” Lucas said smoothly. “Open it.”
With trembling fingers, I lifted the cardboard tab and pulled out a stack of documents, financial statements, and high-resolution photographs. The first photo was of Derek stepping out of his office building, looking polished, confident, and utterly detached. Below it were records of property deeds, bank accounts, and corporate filings.
“Look at the third page,” Lucas instructed, tapping a fingernail against the paper.
I flipped the page. It showed a property transfer document dated three years ago—six months before Derek and I met. It was a sprawling estate on the outskirts of Riverton, registered under a shell corporation.
“That’s the Vance family estate,” I said, confused. “We lived there before—”
“Look at who owned it before Derek acquired it,” Lucas interrupted.
My eyes scanned down the page, following the line of previous owners until my gaze landed on a name that made my blood run cold.
Moretti Holdings.
I looked up sharply at Lucas, the breath trapped in my throat. “Moretti? Your family?”
“My father’s estate,” Lucas corrected, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a weight of ancient grief and fury. “It was acquired under suspicious circumstances five years ago, right around the time my father’s company was systematically dismantled from the inside out, leading to his ruin… and his subsequent death.”
The kitchen seemed to tilt on its axis. I clutched the edge of the marble counter, staring at the man across from me.
“Derek did that?” I whispered.
“Derek was just a junior associate at a predatory law firm back then, used as a front man to bury the transaction,” Lucas said, his eyes burning with a dark, terrifying fire. “He didn't just steal a corporation, Lily. He buried the evidence that would have exposed the people who murdered my father.”
“I didn't know,” I breathed, panic clawing at my throat. “I swear to God, Lucas, I didn't know anything about his business, let alone your family—”
“I know you didn't,” Lucas said, cutting off my frantic defense. He reached across the counter, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around my trembling fingers. The contact anchored me, pulling me back from the edge of panic. “If you had known, Vance wouldn't have kept you locked in a mansion; he would have buried you alongside his secrets.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because your escape wasn't an accident, Lily,” Lucas said, his gaze locking onto mine with unwavering intensity. “And neither was the fact that you walked straight into my life at three in the morning. Vance is looking for you not just because his abused wife ran away, but because he thinks you took something from that house before you left.”
I stared at him, my mind racing back to the night before—the blood, the shattered mug, the blind panic.
“I didn't take anything,” I said defensively. “I only had the clothes on my back.”
“Think, Lily,” Lucas urged softly, his thumb tracing a comforting circle over my knuckles—a gesture so tender it felt entirely out of place on a man of his reputation. “Is there anything in that house—a flash drive, a notebook, a document—that Derek was desperately looking for before you flew out the door?”
My breath caught.
May you like
Memory flashed violently through my mind: the night before I left, I had stumbled into Derek’s private study looking for aspirin. The wall safe behind his mahogany desk had been half-open, a stray manila envelope sticking out, stamped with a faded red seal.
A seal that bore the exact same emblem as the Moretti Holdings logo resting on the paper in front of me.
