Chapter 4 - THE ENGAGEMENT DINNERThe private dining room at Spiaggia overlooked the dark expanse of Lake Michigan. The table was set for four: myself, Arthur, my mother, and Lydia.
Arthur sat across from me, wearing the custom navy suit I had paid four thousand dollars for six weeks ago. His hair was slicked back, his smile brilliant, but his hands were slightly unsteady as he lifted his wine glass. Every time he looked at my neck—where the Moretti black diamond rested heavy and ice-cold against my skin—his eyes dilated with a mix of awe and terror.
"Nora, honey," Arthur said, reaching across the table to lay his hand over mine. His palm was damp. "You still haven't told us where you got the necklace. I mean... it's incredible. Is it a copy? A cubic zirconia?"
"It's real, Arthur," I said, taking a slow sip of my Barolo. "It was lent to me by a client. An event I'm organizing for the Moretti estate."
Lydia, sitting to Arthur's right, cleared her throat sharply. She had been staring at the diamond all evening, her glass of Pinot Grigio nearly empty. "The Moretti family? Nora, you shouldn't be associating with those people. Everyone knows Dante Moretti is involved in... unsavory businesses. Dad would be horrified."
"Dad is dead, Lydia," I said flatly.
Eleanor set her fork down with a sharp clatter. "Nora! Respect your sister. She’s only looking out for you. Besides, Arthur is right—wearing four million dollars around your neck to a simple family dinner is a bit... vulgar, don't you think? It makes people uncomfortable."
"Does it make you uncomfortable, Mom?" I asked, leaning back in my leather chair. "Or does it just make you uncomfortable that it wasn't bought with my father's insurance money?"
The air at the table evaporated.
Arthur dropped his fork. It hit his plate with a loud ring. "What... what did you say?"
"Nothing," I smiled faintly. "Just a joke. Arthur, how are the venue payments going? The Grand Promenade called me today. They said the final balance of twelve thousand dollars was paid earlier this week."
Arthur’s eyes flicked instantly toward Lydia, a micro-expression of absolute panic crossing his face before he forced a smile. "Oh! Yes! Yeah, I took care of it yesterday, babe. I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working so hard, I thought I’d cover the final installment myself."
"With what money, Arthur?" I asked, my voice dangerously soft.
"My... my bonus from work! I got an early payout on the quarterly logistics targets."
"That's wonderful," I said, nodding slowly. "Because when I checked our joint account this morning, forty-one thousand dollars was missing. But I'm sure that was just a banking glitch, right? Not a transfer to an entity called L. VANE ENTERPRISES?"
Lydia choked on her wine, coughing violently into her napkin. Eleanor’s face hardened into a mask of pure stone.
"Nora," Eleanor said, her voice dropping an octave into a low, menacing hiss. "You are making a scene in a public establishment."
"This is a private room, Mom," I replied.
Arthur stood up, his face pale as paper. "Nora, look, let's go outside and talk about this. You're confused. You're misinterpreting the accounting—"
"Sit down, Arthur," a deep, quiet voice said from the doorway.
We all turned.
Dante Moretti stood in the entrance of the private dining room. He wasn't wearing his usual suit. He wore an unbuttoned black shirt beneath a tailored leather jacket, his dark hair slightly damp from the rain outside. Behind him stood two men in heavy coats—and between them was a third man, bound at the wrists with heavy plastic zip-ties, his face bruised and swollen.
It was the head accountant from Vane, Sterling & Cross.
Lydia let out a high-pitched shriek. Eleanor stood up so fast her chair fell backward, crashing onto the carpet.
"Dante Moretti..." Eleanor gasped, her aristocratic composure finally shattering into jagged pieces. "What is the meaning of this? This is illegal! I will call the police!"
"Call them, Eleanor," Dante said smoothly, stepping into the room. He walked over to my chair, placed a warm, heavy hand on my shoulder, and looked down at my mother. "Tell Chief Officer O'Malley that I'm in your dining room. He’ll be here in five minutes. Of course, he’ll also have to explain why his wife’s name is on three of the offshore accounts Julian set up for you in Belize."
Eleanor’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Dante looked at Arthur, who was trembling so hard his knees were knocking against the mahogany table.
"Arthur," Dante said softly, almost gently. "You have twenty-four hours to move your things out of Nora’s apartment. If I find a single pair of your shoes, a single shirt, or a single toothbrush in that place by tomorrow night... I will have my men throw you into the Chicago River with forty-one thousand dollars worth of concrete tied to your ankles."
"Dante, please..." Arthur stammered, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "I didn't know! Eleanor told me Nora wanted to break up with me anyway! She said Nora was going to cut me out of the business!"
"Shut up, Arthur!" Lydia screamed, throwing her wine glass at him. The glass shattered against his chest, staining his navy suit red. "You coward! You pathetic coward!"
Dante didn't even blink. He looked down at me, his fingers squeezing my shoulder gently.
"Are you ready to leave, Nora?" he asked.
I looked at Arthur, sobbing into his hands. I looked at Lydia, her face twisted in rage and terror. I looked at my mother, standing frozen, her empire of lies crumbling around her feet.
May you like
I unclasped the four-million-dollar black diamond necklace from my neck, placed it carefully in the center of the table right on top of Arthur's untouched steak, and stood up.
"I'll see you all at the wedding," I said quietly.
