Chapter 6 - The Trap Collapses
The rain returned by noon, dropping a dreary gray veil over the financial district.
Inside the glass-walled offices of Moretti Enterprises, the atmosphere was chaotic. Employees were rushing through hallways carrying boxes of shredder documents, phones were ringing off the hook, and two federal agents in dark suits were already standing in the lobby, serving civil document requests on the legal department.
In the executive suite, Celeste Vane sat behind Dominic’s massive desk, scrolling rapidly through a laptop.
She was no longer wearing the seductive evening gown from the St. Aurelia. She wore a sharp charcoal pantsuit, her hair pinned back in a tight, efficient bun.
The heavy glass door opened.
Celeste didn't look up. “I told you, Dominic, the legal team is handling the freeze. You need to stay out of the office until—”
“He’s not coming,” a voice said.
Celeste’s fingers froze over the keyboard. She lifted her head.
Ava stood in the doorway, flanked by two plainclothes private security guards from the Rossi estate.
Celeste’s eyes narrowed, her confident demeanor shifting into something defensive. “Mrs. Moretti. You shouldn't be here. This is an active corporate investigation zone.”
Ava walked into the room, her leather heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She stopped at the edge of the desk, looking down at the woman who had thought she could dismantle a ten-year dynasty in a single evening.
“You’re good, Celeste,” Ava said approvingly. “The federal task force picked a smart agent when they sent you. You managed to play on a powerful man’s vanity so completely that he didn't even ask to see your real security credentials.”
Celeste’s hand moved subtly toward her purse on the desk.
One of Ava’s security guards took a swift step forward, pulling the purse away and placing it on a side table.
Celeste let out a frustrated breath, leaning back in the leather chair. The helpless, admiring act she had played for Dominic was entirely gone.
“It doesn't matter, Ava,” Celeste said coldly. “The trap is already sprung. We have Dominic’s digital signatures on the Newark money laundering files. We have the wire transfers to the Giordano family. He’s going away for thirty years. And if you try to protect him, you’ll be sitting in the cell right beside him.”
Ava smiled softly. It was a gentle, almost maternal expression that made Celeste visibly uncomfortable.
“You think I’m here to protect Dominic?” Ava asked.
Celeste blinked. “He’s your husband.”
“He was my representative,” Ava corrected. She pulled a slim white envelope from her coat pocket and laid it gently on the keyboard of Celeste’s laptop. “Read it.”
Celeste hesitated, then opened the envelope. She pulled out a legal notice bearing the seal of the United States District Court.
As she read the contents, the color slowly drained from Celeste’s face.
“This... this is an immunity agreement,” Celeste whispered, her eyes darting across the lines of dense text. “Signed by the Assistant Attorney General... three hours ago?”
“I spent the last ten years building clean separation layers between the Rossi assets and Dominic’s street operations,” Ava explained, resting her hand lightly on her belly. “Every illegal transaction, every bribed port official, every laundered shipment bears one signature: Dominic Moretti’s.”
Celeste looked up, genuine shock flashing in her eyes. “You turned state’s evidence against your own husband?”
“I didn't turn state’s evidence, Agent Vane,” Ava said, her voice dropping into iron perfection. “I provided the government with the primary architect of the crime—a man who stole money from my father’s trust and misused my family’s legitimate shipping companies for his personal criminal ambitions.”
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She leaned down, her face inches from Celeste’s.
“Dominic isn't going to jail because he’s a mafia boss,” Ava whispered. “He’s going to jail because he was stupid enough to sign papers he didn't read. And you... were stupid enough to think you were playing me, when you were really just doing my paperwork.”
