Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN IN THE GRAY COAT
Claire refused to believe it.
Her mother was alive.
That fact alone had shattered everything Claire thought she knew.
Now she was supposedly under arrest.
“For what?”
Vincent looked at the message.
“Murder.”
Claire went still.
“My mother didn't kill anyone.”
“I don't know.”
“You know more than you're telling me.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“Then tell me.”
Vincent hesitated.
“Eleanor was accused of killing Adrian Vale's former accountant.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
Claire's stomach dropped.
Two days.
That was when Vanessa had first worn the necklace.
That was when Vincent had begun acting strangely.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“And you still slept with Vanessa?”
His face tightened.
“I told you. She was connected to Vale.”
Claire looked away.
“I don't know what hurts more.”
Vincent lowered his voice.
“The affair was real.”
She looked back.
He didn't lie.
That mattered.
“And I regret it.”
“You should.”
“I do.”
“But regret doesn't erase it.”
“No.”
Claire sat down.
The baby moved.
She placed both hands over her stomach.
“I'm not raising our son around lies.”
Vincent nodded.
“Neither am I.”
“Then prove it.”
He looked at her.
“How?”
“Bring me to my mother.”
They drove to New Jersey.
Eleanor was being held at a county detention facility pending questioning.
Claire sat across from the glass.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Her mother looked older.
Her hair was streaked with gray.
But the eyes were the same.
Claire's eyes.
“Mom.”
Eleanor smiled weakly.
“My baby.”
Claire's tears came instantly.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I thought it was the only way.”
“You were wrong.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
Eleanor looked at Vincent through the glass.
“Because I believed he would keep you safe.”
Claire followed her gaze.
“You trusted Vincent?”
“Not completely.”
“Then why?”
“Because he was the only Moretti who ever tried to protect someone without asking for money.”
Vincent lowered his eyes.
Claire looked back.
“Did you kill that man?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Eleanor's expression became serious.
“Vale.”
“Why?”
“He was eliminating everyone who could testify against him.”
“Why now?”
“Because the records resurfaced.”
Claire thought of the flash drive.
“You knew about the files.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Vincent had them?”
“No.”
Eleanor looked alarmed.
“Where did you get them?”
Claire told her.
Her mother's face changed.
“The watch.”
“Yes.”
“And the second box?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Then he has everything.”
“Who?”
“Vale.”
Claire froze.
“He knows?”
“He always knew about the watch.”
“Then why didn't he take it?”
“Because he thought I had already destroyed it.”
Claire's voice dropped.
“What does he really want?”
Eleanor leaned toward the glass.
“Your son.”
Claire went still.
“My son?”
“He knows Vincent's empire is unstable.”
“He wants my baby?”
“He wants the Moretti succession.”
Claire shook her head.
“My baby isn't part of an empire.”
“I know.”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“But men like Vale don't see children.”
“They see leverage.”
Claire looked at Vincent.
He had heard everything.
His face had gone cold.
Eleanor continued.
“Vincent has been trying to dismantle his father's old network.”
Claire stared.
“Is that why the business is falling apart?”
Vincent nodded.
“My father built the empire through illegal operations.”
“I've spent years cutting them out.”
“And Vale?”
“He wants the old system back.”
Claire looked at her mother.
“Why did you say you trusted Vincent?”
Eleanor looked toward him.
“Because he gave me a chance to disappear.”
Claire swallowed.
“But you still didn't trust him.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Eleanor's voice softened.
“Because I knew what his father had taught him.”
“What?”
“That love and control can look identical when you're raised by the wrong man.”
Claire felt the words land.
She looked at Vincent.
He didn't defend himself.
That was the first time she believed he might actually understand.
Suddenly the detention officer approached.
“Your visit is over.”
Claire stood.
Eleanor grabbed the phone.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“Don't go back to the penthouse.”
“Why?”
“Because Vale knows where Vincent will take you.”
Claire looked at Vincent.
He was already reaching for his phone.
Then Eleanor whispered,
“And don't trust the man wearing the Moretti family ring.”
Claire's eyes moved to Vincent's hand.
He wasn't wearing one.
Salvatore was.
Claire's blood ran cold.
Her uncle was waiting outside.
When they stepped into the corridor, Salvatore approached.
“Eleanor told you?”
Claire stared at him.
“Told me what?”
Salvatore looked at Vincent.
Then at Claire.
“That I was the one who helped Vale find your mother.”
Vincent went still.
Claire's voice barely came out.
“Uncle Salvatore?”
Salvatore closed his eyes.
“I had no choice.”
Then he removed the Moretti ring from his finger.
Inside it was a tiny photograph.
A photograph of Claire as a newborn.
And beneath it was a date.
October 14, 1991.
The day her father supposedly died.
Salvatore whispered,
“Your father didn't die in an accident.”
Claire stared at the photograph.
May you like
“He was murdered.”
“And I was there.”
