Chapter 7 - The Moretti Name
Sophie needed surgery.
Not next month.
Not when we could afford it.
Now.
The cardiologist sat across from me in a private consultation room.
“The stress episode worsened an existing condition. We need to operate within forty-eight hours.”
I looked at the floor.
“How much?”
“Leora.”
“How much?”
He gave me the number.
It was more than eighty-four thousand now.
I laughed once.
Then started crying.
The doctor tried to explain insurance and payment plans.
I heard none of it.
When I walked into the hallway, Leo was waiting.
His shoulder was bandaged.
“You look terrible,” I said.
“So do you.”
I sat.
He sat beside me.
“She needs surgery.”
“I know.”
“I can’t pay for it.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“Leora.”
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You are rejecting life-saving medical care because the money comes from me?”
“I am rejecting becoming another person who owes the Morettis something.”
His expression changed.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“That isn’t how your world works.”
“It is with me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He stood.
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I won’t pay it.”
I blinked.
He walked away.
“Leo?”
He turned.
“I’ll have the Julia Moretti Foundation pay it.”
“That is your foundation.”
“No. It was my mother’s.”
I stared.
“It has funded emergency cardiac care for fourteen years.”
“I didn’t apply.”
“You qualify.”
“That feels like cheating.”
“The woman who saved the founder’s son qualifies for the same program as everyone else.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You planned that sentence.”
“Yes.”
I almost smiled.
Then he came back and sat beside me.
“Let someone help you.”
I looked through the window into Sophie’s room.
“I hate needing help.”
“So do I.”
“That’s probably why we almost died.”
“Twice.”
We laughed quietly.
For a few minutes, everything felt almost normal.
Then Vittorio arrived.
He carried no guards.
No expensive coat.
Just a folder.
“I came to apologize.”
I stiffened.
Leo did too.
Vittorio placed the folder beside me.
My father’s employment record.
Every accusation had been removed.
A formal statement admitted Daniel Hayes had been wrongfully terminated after reporting security misconduct.
There was also a compensation check.
I pushed it back.
“No.”
Vittorio nodded.
“I expected that.”
“Then why bring it?”
“Because I owed him.”
“You owed him belief.”
“Yes.”
His answer surprised me.
He looked toward Sophie.
“I cannot give your father back his name while he is alive.”
His voice grew rough.
“But I can make sure nobody ever calls him a thief again.”
I did not forgive him.
But I kept the statement.
For Dad.
Later that afternoon, Leo’s uncle Raymond was arrested at a private airfield.
Rachel called us.
“He was trying to leave the country.”
“And Samuel?”
“Still missing.”
Raymond began talking before dinner.
Self-preservation apparently ran strong in the Vale family.
He admitted helping Samuel manipulate Julia.
He admitted paying Dr. Reed.
He admitted knowing about the sabotaged brakes.
But one detail stunned everyone.
“Samuel wasn’t supposed to kill Julia,” Rachel said.
Leo’s face darkened.
“What does that mean?”
“Raymond claims they intended to frighten her into leaving Vittorio.”
“And then?”
“Samuel changed the plan.”
Vittorio whispered, “Why?”
Rachel looked toward Leo.
“Because Julia discovered Samuel wasn’t only stealing from Vittorio.”
“He was building his own network,” Leo said.
“Exactly.”
Samuel had spent sixteen years slowly taking over the Moretti family from inside.
Judges.
Police.
Union officials.
Security contractors.
Shipping managers.
Accountants.
He did not want to destroy the Moretti empire.
He wanted to inherit it.
Leo laughed bitterly.
“All that loyalty.”
Vittorio stared through the window.
“I put a snake at my table.”
“No,” Leo said.
“You put him above people who warned you.”
Vittorio accepted the blow.
“Yes.”
Sophie’s surgery began the next morning.
Six hours.
I paced until my legs hurt.
Leo stayed.
When I told him he didn’t have to, he said, “I know.”
When the surgeon finally walked out smiling, my knees collapsed.
“She’s okay.”
I cried against Leo’s chest.
He wrapped both arms around me.
“She’s okay.”
I repeated it until I believed it.
When I finally pulled back, our faces were inches apart.
For one dangerous second, neither of us moved.
Then I whispered, “This is a terrible time to kiss me.”
Leo smiled.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Liar.”
“Completely.”
I kissed him first.
It was not dramatic.
No fireworks.
No orchestra.
Just exhaustion, relief, and two people who had survived enough to stop pretending they didn’t feel something.
When we separated, Leo touched his forehead to mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that since you threatened to let me bleed out.”
“That was romantic for you?”
“My standards are complicated.”
My phone rang.
Rachel.
The happiness disappeared when I answered.
“We found Samuel.”
“Where?”
“Blackwood.”
Leo heard.
His face hardened.
Rachel continued.
“He took Vittorio.”
We both turned.
The chair where Leo’s father had been sitting twenty minutes earlier was empty.
On the seat was a note.
May you like
COME HOME, SON.
ONE LAST FAMILY MEETING.
