Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Andrew Keller
The words lingered in the quiet dining room long after Luca’s car pulled out of the driveway.
Ellie spent the afternoon walking through the vast grounds of the Moretti estate. The property was breathtaking—acres of rolling green lawns, private oak forests, and stone pathways leading down to a private pier on the lake. Everywhere she walked, guards stepped back respectfully, touching the brims of their hats, giving her space without ever making her feel trapped.
For the first time in years, she felt her shoulders drop from her ears.
At 3:00 p.m., Rosa brought her tea on the sun porch. "You have a visitor, ma'am," Rosa announced, her expression turning slightly cool. "A Mr. Andrew Keller is at the main security gate. He claims he has urgent legal documents regarding Bennett Maritime that require your personal signature."
Ellie froze, her fingers tightening around her teacup.
The reflex was immediate—the sudden, suffocating tightness in her throat that had plagued her during her two-year engagement to Andrew. Her instinct was to hide, to let someone else handle it, to avoid the smooth, manipulative arguments Andrew used so effortlessly to make her feel small.
Then she remembered Luca’s words from the morning: I watched you outsmart every single one of them.
She set her teacup down with a firm, decisive clink.
"Tell the gate guards to let him drive up," Ellie said, her voice steady. "And Rosa? Please have Vance stand near the porch entrance."
Five minutes later, a sleek silver sports car pulled up to the circular driveway. Andrew Keller stepped out.
He was impeccably dressed in an expensive navy suit, his blonde hair styled to perfection, a handsome, polished smile resting on his face. To anyone watching, he looked like the ideal gentleman—a wealthy, successful corporate lawyer from one of Chicago's oldest families.
To Ellie, he looked like a prison guard.
"Ellie, darling," Andrew said, sweeping up the stone steps toward the porch, his arms slightly open as if expecting an embrace. "Look at you. Living in a fortress."
Ellie didn't stand up. She stayed seated in her wicker armchair, her legs crossed, watching him with cold, measured eyes.
"Stop right there, Andrew," she said cleanly.
Andrew paused, his smile flickering for a fraction of a second before reassembling itself. "Ellie, don't be like that. I know today must be overwhelming for you. Being dragged into this world... living with a man like Moretti. It must be terrifying."
He took another step forward, dropping his voice into that soothing, condescending tone he always used when he wanted to override her judgment.
"I brought the paperwork to terminate your father's debt obligations to my firm," Andrew said, pulling a leather folder from his jacket. "Sign these, and you can come back to the city with me today. My lawyers have already found grounds to annul this sham of a marriage. You don't have to stay here, Ellie. You don't have to sacrifice your life for your father's mistakes."
Ellie looked at him. She looked at his polished suit, his sympathetic eyes, and the subtle, desperate greed lurking beneath his gentlemanly facade.
She realized, with sudden, blinding clarity, that Andrew hadn't come here to save her. He had come because he was losing control. The Moretti alliance had cut off his ability to swallow Bennett Maritime, and he couldn't stand the fact that the woman he had treated like a docile pet was now protected by the most powerful man in the city.
"You're lying, Andrew," Ellie said softly.
Andrew blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"You didn't bring termination papers," Ellie said, standing up smoothly, her full height and curvy frame carrying a presence that made Andrew involuntarily take half a step back. "You brought an assignment of voting rights. You want me to sign over my grandfather's shares so you can liquidate the shipping line before Luca's team finishes auditing your offshore accounts."
Andrew’s face went pale. The polished gentleman vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, venomous sneer.
"Who told you that?" Andrew snapped, taking a threatening step toward her. "Did that thug Moretti put those ideas in your head? You don't know anything about corporate law, Ellie! You're a glorified administrator who spends her time picking out paint colors! You need someone who knows how to run a real business!"
He reached out to grab her arm—a gesture he had done a hundred times before to force her to sit down and listen.
Before his fingers could touch her sleeve, a massive hand clamped around Andrew's wrist like a steel vise.
May you like
Vance stepped out from the shadow of the doorway. His grip was so tight that Andrew gasped in pain, his leather folder slipping from his fingers and scattering papers across the stone porch.
"Touch Mrs. Moretti again," Vance said in a quiet, terrifying whisper, "and I will break your arm in three places before you hit the floor."
