Chapter 6 - VINCENT'S PROMISE
Vincent Moretti had spent most of his adult life believing fear was useful.
Fear prevented betrayal.
Fear protected business.
Fear kept enemies predictable.
Then Evelyn was born.
Years later, Sophie arrived.
And Vincent slowly learned that fear worked differently inside a family.
Children did not become safer because adults frightened everyone around them.
They only learned that love came with danger.
As he watched Sophie shaking against her mother, Vincent felt every old instinct return.
There were men in the ballroom who would follow one movement of his hand.
There were still favors owed to him across the city.
Preston had no idea how easy revenge could be.
Marco came beside him.
“What do you want done?”
Vincent looked at Sophie.
Her small fingers were gripping Evelyn’s sleeve.
He answered without taking his eyes from her.
“Nothing.”
Marco studied him.
Vincent finally looked over.
“No one touches Preston.”
Marco raised an eyebrow.
“Not even outside?”
“Not even outside.”
“Vincent.”
“I mean it.”
He lowered his voice.
“My granddaughter watched her father throw her onto a floor tonight.”
“She doesn’t need to watch her grandfather become another man she should fear.”
Marco nodded slowly.
It was the hardest order Vincent had ever given.
Not because violence would have been difficult.
Because restraint was.
Detective Alvarez approached them.
“We found something.”
Everyone turned.
An officer carried a garment bag from the bridal suite.
Inside was Diane’s mother-of-the-groom dress.
The sapphire necklace had not been found.
But there was a hidden inner pocket sewn into the garment bag.
Inside that pocket were two passports.
One belonged to Diane Hale.
The other belonged to Preston.
There were also airline tickets.
Chicago to Zurich.
Departure time.
6:20 a.m. the next morning.
Celeste stared at them.
“You were leaving?”
Preston shook his head.
“They’re backups.”
“For what?”
“Business.”
Grant laughed.
“Tell her about Geneva.”
Preston’s face hardened.
“Enough.”
Alvarez looked toward Grant.
“What’s in Geneva?”
Grant answered.
“An account.”
Diane shouted.
“He is making this up.”
Grant looked at her.
“Then why did you tell me to wire twelve million into it tomorrow?”
The detective turned.
“Twelve million from where?”
Grant looked at Celeste.
“Her trust.”
Celeste stepped backward.
Her father, Robert Whitmore, finally moved from the guests.
He had barely spoken all night.
He was sixty-four and silver-haired.
His silence ended.
“You planned to steal twelve million dollars from my daughter and leave the country?”
Preston pointed at Grant.
“He’s trying to save himself.”
Robert looked at Preston.
“I asked you.”
Preston said nothing.
Robert turned toward Celeste.
“You’re coming home with me.”
Celeste nodded.
Diane’s composure cracked.
“You cannot simply walk away from a marriage.”
Celeste looked down at the ring still sitting on the table.
Then she looked at Diane.
“We never completed the license filing.”
Diane froze.
Celeste’s expression became almost sad.
“Preston insisted we delay filing until Monday because of some tax issue.”
Grant whispered.
“That was part of it too.”
Preston suddenly moved.
Not toward Celeste.
Toward Grant.
The officers caught him immediately.
For a few seconds, the ballroom became chaos.
Preston screamed that Grant was a liar.
Grant shouted back.
Diane demanded an attorney.
Guests lifted phones.
Sophie covered her ears.
Vincent immediately knelt in front of her.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“You’re safe.”
“Is Daddy going to jail?”
Vincent paused.
“That will be for the police and the courts to decide.”
Sophie’s eyes filled.
“Is he mad because I told?”
“No.”
Vincent took both of her hands.
“He is afraid because you told the truth.”
She sniffed.
“I don’t want anybody hurt.”
Vincent felt the words strike somewhere deep.
He glanced toward Preston.
Then toward Marco.
Then back at Sophie.
May you like
“Neither do I.”
And for perhaps the first time in Vincent Moretti’s life, he truly meant it.
