Chapter 10 - THE LAST LIE CHARLES SHAW TRIED TO BUY
Charles Shaw offered me five million dollars.
Rachel nearly threw the letter into a shredder.
I stopped her.
“Keep it.”
“Why?”
“Evidence.”
She smiled.
“I’m influencing you.”
“Unfortunately.”
The offer came through his civil attorneys while criminal charges were pending.
Five million in exchange for:
Confidential settlement.
Withdrawal of my civil medical-privacy claims.
Agreement not to publicly discuss Charles’s involvement.
And one particularly offensive clause.
No admission concerning alleged interference with the Moretti-Carter marriage.
Alleged.
I laughed.
Luca did not.
“Don’t take it.”
I looked at him.
“Excuse me?”
He immediately corrected.
“Sorry.”
“Good.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want him to admit it.”
“That may never happen.”
“I know.”
“Do you need money?”
“No.”
“Then I assume the answer is no.”
“Correct.”
Rachel sent a response containing only legal language.
My preferred response contained profanity.
Apparently lawyers had standards.
Then Charles increased the offer.
Ten million.
No.
Then fifteen.
Still no.
Evelyn called.
“He thinks everyone has a number.”
“So did Luca once.”
Silence.
Then I realized how rude that sounded.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“Accurate.”
She continued.
“He used money instead of apology my whole life.”
“What do you want from him?”
“Nothing anymore.”
That sounded free.
Then investigators recovered one final email.
Charles to Antonio Moretti.
Sent twelve days before Luca asked for divorce.
Bell confirms Luca received the revised assessment. Your concern about hesitation is unfounded. Once he believes succession is impossible with Nia, he will act. Evelyn remains available when appropriate.
My hands shook reading it.
They knew.
They knew exactly how Luca would react.
Not because they invented him.
Because they understood his fear.
They exploited something real.
That was the hardest truth.
Antonio and Charles did not force Luca to withdraw.
They gave him a lie his worst instincts were already prepared to believe.
Luca read the email beside me.
Then sat silently for several minutes.
“I hate him.”
“Charles?”
“My father.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
“He’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t confront him.”
“No.”
“I can’t ask why.”
“No.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Therapist says grief over betrayal by dead parents is still grief.”
“Annoying therapist.”
“Extremely.”
Then:
“Do you hate my father?”
“Yes.”
Immediate.
Luca almost smiled.
“That was easy.”
“He gave me six years of material.”
Fair.
The civil case proceeded.
Dr. Bell cooperated.
Charles eventually pleaded guilty to charges involving medical-record fraud, conspiracy and obstruction tied to the clinic scheme.
The details were complicated.
The emotional truth wasn’t.
He manipulated healthcare information to influence a marriage for financial and dynastic advantage.
Antonio Moretti escaped criminal accountability by being dead.
His estate did not escape civil claims.
Isabella voluntarily waived parts of the estate protection that could have shielded assets.
That surprised Luca.
“Why did she do that?”
I looked at him.
“Maybe guilt can become useful if it stops asking to be forgiven.”
He stared.
“That sounded profound.”
“Write it down.”
Eventually, a settlement fund was created from Antonio’s estate and Shaw assets.
Not for me personally at first.
For patients affected by Dr. Bell’s other privacy violations.
There were more.
Not forged infertility reports necessarily.
But wealthy families had paid for access.
Confidentiality exceptions.
Private summaries.
Unauthorized information.
The scandal grew.
I accepted damages later.
Not fifteen million.
A court-mediated amount.
Most went into trusts for Eli and Mara and a grant program for reproductive-health legal advocacy.
Luca asked no questions about the amount.
Growth.
Then Charles made his final move from sentencing.
A television interview through his attorney.
He claimed:
“Nia Carter would have reunited with Luca Moretti immediately if she truly believed the children deserved a father. Her silence proves money and revenge motivated her.”
I watched from my kitchen.
Anger rose.
Then disappeared.
Because for once, I knew exactly what I had done wrong and what I had not.
I had hidden the twins.
Wrong.
I had not done it for money.
I had not stalked Luca.
Asked for support.
Threatened.
Used children.
Wrong motivation invented by a man who could not imagine choices that were not transactions.
I turned off the television.
Luca called.
“I want to respond.”
“No.”
Silence.
“No?”
“I don’t need you to defend me every time someone says something ugly.”
His voice softened.
“What do you need?”
“Come to Eli’s school concert tomorrow.”
“I’m scheduled in Boston.”
“Then don’t.”
Silence.
“Seriously.”
“I don’t want you canceling legitimate life every time the kids have something.”
“Can I move the Boston meeting?”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Without blowing up the company?”
“Yes.”
“Then decide.”
He laughed.
“You’re impossible.”
“No.”
“I’m refusing to run your calendar.”
He came.
Not by canceling Boston.
He moved the meeting earlier and flew commercial because the company plane was unavailable.
Eli thought this was hilarious.
“Dad rode normal plane?”
Luca looked offended.
“Yes.”
“With people?”
“Yes.”
“Like us?”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
I nearly died.
At the concert, Luca sat three seats away from me because the counselor recommended avoiding family performance.
No pretending we were reunited.
Eli played percussion badly.
Very badly.
Luca applauded like Carnegie Hall.
Afterward, we got pizza.
Mara asked:
“Are you and Dad getting married?”
I almost inhaled mozzarella.
Luca stared.
“No,” I said.
Mara frowned.
“Why?”
“We were already married.”
“That doesn’t answer.”
Eli said:
“Maybe Mom still mad.”
“Partly.”
I answered.
Luca looked at me.
I continued.
“Your dad and I are learning how to trust each other.”
Mara thought.
“Like friendship?”
“Yes.”
“Do you kiss?”
“No.”
Luca coughed.
I wanted to disappear.
Eli looked disappointed.
“Movies kiss.”
“Life is not a movie.”
Luca murmured:
“Thank God.”
Later, outside my apartment, he stopped.
“Do you want to?”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
“Luca.”
“I am asking.”
I stared.
Yes.
That was the problem.
“I don’t know.”
He nodded.
“No pressure.”
Then he turned.
I caught his sleeve.
He looked back.
I kissed him.
One second.
Maybe two.
Then stepped away.
Luca looked completely stunned.
Good.
“That was not an answer about us.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
His voice was rough.
“Good night, Nia.”
“Good night.”
I went inside.
Closed the door.
Leaned against it.
My entire body shook.
Not because the kiss felt wrong.
Because it felt familiar.
And new.
Dangerous combination.
Then Mara appeared in the hallway.
“You kissed Dad.”
I nearly screamed.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long.”
“Go to bed.”
She smiled.
“Movies.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
Children were punishment.
