Chapter 4 - The Clean-Up
By 3:00 a.m., the Duca-Moretti estate looked less like a home and more like a federal command center.
Federal agents and private security teams moved through the sprawling mansion and its surrounding properties, executing search warrants, seizing hard drives, and hauling away filing cabinets full of incriminating evidence tied to the Bellini syndicate.
Sophia and her father were locked deep in the lower holding cells, awaiting transport to a federal penitentiary where bail was an impossible dream. Dr. Malcolm Reed had already signed a full confession implicating half the city's board of health in medical fraud in exchange for a slightly reduced prison sentence.
Up in the master study, the heavy oak doors stood wide open.
Vincent sat behind his polished mahogany desk, staring at the framed photograph of Elena that he had retrieved from the hidden wall safe earlier that night. The storm outside had finally passed, leaving behind a cold, clear Manhattan sky glittering with stars.
A soft knock echoed at the open door.
I stood in the threshold, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, wearing my plain housemaid uniform. Lily was fast asleep in the small cot set up in the staff quarters down the hall, clutching her gray rabbit with both ears.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said softly, hesitating at the edge of the room. “I brought you coffee. The federal team is finished with the west wing. They said everything is secured.”
Vincent set the photograph down, leaned back in his leather chair, and looked at me. The ruthless, untouchable mafia boss looked suddenly tired—human, worn down by years of grief and deception, but finally free of the shadows that had choked him for half a decade.
“Come in, Clara,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.
I stepped inside, setting the mug down carefully before standing respectfully by the side of the chair.
“You saved my life tonight, Clara,” Vincent said quietly. “Not just by exposing the pillow trick. If Lily hadn't brought me that note from Elena... I would have signed away the ports. I would have drunk the poisoned wine they had waiting for the toast. I would have been dead by morning.”
“I was just doing my job, sir,” I replied, keeping my eyes lowered. “And... and Lily just says whatever comes into her head. She doesn't understand politics or syndicates.”
“No,” Vincent said with a faint, rare smile touching the corners of his mouth. “She understands the truth better than any adult in this house ever did.”
He stood up, walking slowly around the desk until he stood just inches away from me.
“For three years, you’ve raised your daughter in this house, working twice as hard as any other staff member, keeping your head down, protecting her from the world,” Vincent said, his voice deep and deliberate. “And all this time, I was surrounded by wolves wearing silk dresses.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a heavy velvet box, and set it gently on the edge of the desk.
“What is this, Mr. Moretti?” I asked, frowning.
“It’s a new contract, Clara,” Vincent said softly. “Effective immediately, you are no longer the head housekeeper of this estate. You are the chief of administrative operations for the Moretti Corporation, with an office on the top floor of the Manhattan tower, full security detail, and a salary that ensures Lily will never have to worry about a missing shoe buckle again.”
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I stared at the box, my breath catching in my throat. “Sir... I—I don't know what to say. I’m just a maid—”
“You’re the only person in this city I can trust,” Vincent interrupted, looking toward the hallway where Lily was sleeping. “And as for your daughter... I think it’s time she had a proper backyard to play in, don't you?”
