Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF BEING FEARED
I had faced federal investigators before.
Usually, I knew exactly what they wanted.
A confession.
A witness.
A document that connected me to a crime they couldn't otherwise prove.
But this time was different.
For the first time, the evidence pointed toward something I genuinely hadn't known about.
And somehow, that made the situation worse.
Because the money had passed through accounts connected to me.
Because my signature appeared on the paperwork.
And because I had trusted Victor to do the things I didn't want to examine too closely.
That was the truth I couldn't escape.
It wasn't enough to say I hadn't ordered the theft.
I'd created an organization where a man could steal from desperate families for years without anyone questioning him.
Including me.
The next morning, Grace arrived with a woman I'd never met.
She wore a dark blue pantsuit and carried a thin leather folder.
Her posture was calm.
Her expression was not.
“Dante Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“Special Agent Naomi Brooks. FBI.”
Marco instinctively moved closer.
I raised my hand.
“It's fine.”
Brooks glanced at him.
“I'd prefer to have this conversation without armed security nearby.”
Marco looked at me.
“Outside,” I told him.
He hesitated.
Then stepped away.
Brooks sat across from me at the dining table.
Grace remained beside her.
Elena joined us after taking the girls upstairs.
Brooks opened her folder.
“I understand you've recently learned that your wife is alive.”
“Yes.”
“And that you may have another daughter.”
“I do have another daughter.”
“We'll need independent documentation to confirm that.”
“You'll have it.”
Brooks studied me for a moment.
“Mr. Moretti, I've spent eighteen months investigating Victor Hale.”
I leaned forward.
“Then you know what he is.”
“I know what the evidence suggests.”
“And you're here because you think I helped him.”
“I'm here because several companies connected to you received funds diverted from a charitable organization.”
I held her gaze.
“Then ask your questions.”
She did.
For nearly two hours.
She asked about Westbridge Holdings.
About cash transactions.
About shell corporations and warehouses.
About Victor's access to my accounts.
And about my own involvement in businesses that had little resemblance to legitimate commerce.
I answered more honestly than I ever had in an interrogation.
Not because I suddenly trusted the government.
Because upstairs, two little girls were trying to decide which bedroom they wanted to share.
And I had begun to understand that the truth was worth more than protecting my reputation.
When Brooks closed her folder, she looked genuinely surprised.
“You're aware that some of what you've told me could expose you to serious criminal charges.”
“Yes.”
“Your attorney can stop this interview.”
Grace looked at me.
I shook my head.
“I'm not finished.”
Brooks waited.
“Victor used my name. My companies. My authority. He stole from vulnerable families, and he stole one of my daughters.”
I paused.
“But I'm not going to pretend I had nothing to do with building the world that made it possible.”
Elena looked at me.
For the first time since our reunion, something in her expression softened.
Brooks leaned back.
“What are you willing to do?”
I thought about my mansion.
My money.
The men who followed my orders.
Everything I'd spent twenty years acquiring.
Then I pictured Ruby asking whether her dinner had to be paid for.
“Whatever it takes to prove what happened,” I said.
Brooks didn't smile.
“That's easy to say when you don't know the price.”
I met her eyes.
“Then tell me the price.”
After Brooks left, I found Elena sitting on the back porch.
The lake stretched gray and cold beneath the October sky.
She had wrapped herself in an old blanket.
I sat beside her.
For a while, we watched the water.
Finally, she asked, “Did you mean what you said?”
“Which part?”
“That you're willing to face what you've done.”
“Yes.”
She looked at me.
“Even if it means losing everything?”
I considered lying.
It would have been easy.
I'd built a career on knowing when to say whatever people needed to hear.
But Elena had lost five years of her life to lies.
She deserved better.
“I'm afraid,” I admitted.
She seemed surprised.
“Of prison?”
“Of what Sophie will think when she learns who her father really was.”
Elena watched the water.
“Children don't need perfect parents, Dante.”
I looked at her.
“They need honest ones.”
I swallowed.
“I don't know how to be the kind of father Ruby deserves.”
“Then start by listening to her.”
“She barely looks at me.”
“She doesn't know you.”
“I know.”
“You can't buy five years back.”
Her words hurt.
But they were true.
Elena touched my hand.
“You can give her the next five. And the five after that, if you're willing to change.”
I looked at her fingers resting against mine.
“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”
She took a long breath.
“I don't know yet.”
That answer was painful.
But it was real.
And for once, I didn't try to negotiate a better one.
That evening, I found Ruby sitting alone by the fireplace.
She was holding her crumpled paper bag.
I'd noticed that she carried it everywhere.
“Can I sit here?” I asked.
She nodded.
I sat on the carpet beside her.
“What's in the bag?”
She hesitated.
Then carefully opened it.
Inside were three things.
A broken purple hair clip.
A photograph of Elena holding Ruby as a baby.
And a tiny stuffed rabbit with one missing ear.
I smiled.
“That's quite a collection.”
Ruby hugged the rabbit.
“His name is Mr. Buttons.”
“Good name.”
“He was mine when I was little.”
“You're still little.”
She frowned.
“I'm almost six.”
“My mistake.”
That earned a small smile.
I pointed toward the photograph.
“Is that your mommy?”
Ruby nodded.
“She looks happy there.”
“She was.”
Ruby studied me.
“Were you married to her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still love her?”
I looked toward the kitchen, where Elena was helping Sophie arrange cupcakes on a tray.
“Yes,” I said. “Very much.”
Ruby thought about that.
“Then why did you leave?”
The question hurt, but I didn't look away.
“I didn't know where she was.”
Ruby's forehead wrinkled.
“Mommy says people who love you come looking.”
I swallowed.
“She's right.”
“Then how come you didn't?”
“Because someone lied to both of us, and I believed him.”
“Why?”
I looked down at my hands.
“Because I made a mistake.”
Ruby was quiet.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out the photograph.
“You can look at it if you want.”
I accepted it carefully.
“Thank you.”
She leaned against the couch.
“Mommy says when people make mistakes, they're supposed to fix them.”
I looked at the little girl whose life I'd missed.
“Your mommy is very smart.”
Ruby nodded seriously.
“I know.”
That night, I instructed Marco to check every room in the house.
Not because I suspected him.
Because Victor knew too much about my security arrangements.
An hour later, Marco returned.
His expression was grim.
“Boss, there's a problem.”
“What kind?”
“Your security cameras.”
“What about them?”
“They're connected to a remote monitoring service.”
“That's normal.”
“Victor's company owns the service.”
I felt cold.
Marco continued.
“He still has administrator access. We found evidence of recent remote viewing.”
“Disconnect everything.”
“Already done.”
“Did he see the girls?”
Marco didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Then he placed a tablet on the table.
A recording showed the living room from earlier that evening.
Ruby sitting beside me.
Sophie and Elena in the kitchen.
Every word.
Every movement.
Every private moment.
Victor had been watching.
I stared at the screen.
“Tell me you've shut it down.”
“Yes. But there's something else.”
“What?”
Marco opened the last recording.
The timestamp showed 9:42 p.m.
A man in a dark coat stood outside the side entrance.
He entered a code.
The lock clicked open.
My blood turned cold.
The security system had recorded him stepping into the house only minutes earlier.
May you like
Marco looked at me.
“Boss, whoever Victor sent isn't watching us from outside anymore. He's already in the house.”
