Chapter 7 - A Viper in the Moretti House
The Moretti estate was bustling with activity. The wedding rehearsal dinner was scheduled for that evening, and the grand ballroom was decorated with white orchids and crystal chandeliers. Valeria St. Clair walked through the halls like a queen inspecting her domain, draped in a diamond necklace Dante had gifted her a year prior.
She noticed the unusual security presence, but paid it no mind until she walked into the grand dining room.
Instead of a feast, the long mahogany table was empty except for three people: Dante, sitting at the head; Clara Hayes, dressed in a sharp, elegant tailored suit; and Lily, happily coloring a picture book at the far end.
Valeria’s face contorted in disgust. "Dante? What is this trash doing here? And why is her brat in our dining room? I thought you fired her."
Dante didn't look up from his glass of scotch. "Sit down, Valeria."
"I will not sit down until this woman is thrown out of my house!" Valeria snapped.
"It is not your house," Clara spoke up, her voice steady, devoid of the fear she had carried for years. "And it never will be."
Valeria laughed shrilly. "You think because Dante saved your pathetic life you have a say here? You're a failed nurse who writes memos."
"She is the woman who saved my family's legacy," Dante said, his voice dropping like an anvil. He nodded to Marcus, who entered from the side door, pushing a wheelchair.
Sitting in the wheelchair, heavily guarded and looking completely broken, was Dr. Vincent Hallow.
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Valeria’s breath hitched. The color drained from her face, leaving her as pale as the white orchids on the tables. "Dante... what is the meaning of this? Why is this old man here?"
"He came to talk about my mother's medication, Valeria," Dante said softly, standing up. "And the hour she took it."
