Chapter 5 - The Commission's Threat
The morning sun broke through the thick fog over Long Island Sound, casting a cold grey light across the estate's dining room.
I sat at the long mahogany table, wearing a comfortable cashmere sweater, eating a plate of poached eggs and avocado toast that Mrs. Higgins had forced upon me.
A private physician, Dr. Elizabeth Vance—a sharp, fifty-something obstetrician whom Adrian had flown in from Boston at three in the morning—sat across from me reviewing my ultrasound files.
"The twins are remarkably healthy, Claire," Dr. Vance said, offering me a reassuring smile. "Your blood pressure is slightly elevated due to stress, but resting heart rates for both infants are pristine. However, you must avoid high-stress situations. Elevated cortisol levels can trigger early contractions in twin pregnancies."
"Tell that to the man running this fortress," I muttered, sipping my decaf tea.
At that moment, the heavy double doors opened.
Adrian entered, dressed in a pristine charcoal three-piece suit, a dark silk tie tied impeccably at his throat. He looked formidable, polished, and entirely lethal.
He walked straight over to my chair, leaning down, placing one hand on the back of my seat and the other on the table, bending over to kiss the crown of my head.
The casual intimacy of the gesture made my breath hitch.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked softly, his eyes searching my face.
"I'm fine," I said, leaning back slightly. "Dr. Vance says the babies are strong."
Adrian’s lips curved into a rare, breathtakingly handsome smile. He dropped his gaze to my belly, his hand rising instinctively to rest against my side for a brief moment before pulling back.
"Good," Adrian said. "Because I have to go into the city."
I sat up straight. "The Commission meeting?"
"Yes," Adrian nodded, his jaw setting into hard lines. "Antonio wants to strip my voting authority. He believes he can intimidate the board members by claiming you are carrying another man's children."
A surge of anger flared in my chest. "That arrogant, lying—"
"Quiet, Claire," Adrian murmured gently, touching my chin with his index finger. "Let him make his claims. By two o'clock today, Antonio Moretti will no longer hold a single share in Moretti Capital."
"How?" I asked, searching his eyes. "He controls forty percent of the waterfront operations. He has half the Commission in his pocket."
"He has men who obey him out of fear," Adrian corrected coldly. "I have men who obey me out of loyalty. There is a vast difference."
He straightened up, buttoning his suit jacket. He turned to Marco, who was standing by the door holding a leather briefcase.
"Marco, you remain here with twenty men," Adrian ordered. "No one enters through those iron gates without my explicit voice authorization. If Antonio’s operatives approach the perimeter, use lethal force immediately."
"Understood, Don Moretti," Marco bowed his head.
Adrian turned back to me one last time. He reached out, his warm thumb gently tracing my lower lip.
"Rest, Claire," he whispered. "I will be back before dinner."
I watched him walk out of the room, his long strides confident and heavy.
For three years, I had thought of Adrian as a man made of stone—unfeeling, distant, obsessed with power. But looking at the back of his receding frame, I realized something terrifying: Adrian wasn't a man made of stone. He was a man who built stone walls around his heart to protect the very few things he loved.
And right now, those things were resting inside my body.
Two hours later, while I was sitting in the estate's glass conservatory reading a book on twin development, Mrs. Higgins hurried into the room, her face pale.
"Miss Bennett," she stammered, holding out a silver tray. "A courier just delivered a hand-written letter addressed directly to you. It was stamped with the official seal of the Moretti Family Trust."
My hand trembled as I picked up the heavy cream envelope.
I broke the red wax seal and pulled out a single sheet of parchment.
May you like
The handwriting was jagged, sharp, and dripping with venom.
Claire, If you wish to see Adrian survive his two o'clock Commission meeting, you will leave the Greenwich compound alone in the delivery van currently waiting at the service gate. If you refuse, a bomb planted beneath the Commission boardroom table at 100 Wall Street will detonate at 1:55 PM. Choose wisely. - Antonio Moretti.
