Chapter 7 - The Prisoner in the LodgeThe rain lashed against the reinforced glass windows of the estate's guest lodge, turning the manicured gardens outside into a blurry watercolor of gray and green.
Inside, sitting in a velvet armchair that once belonged to her late husband, Victoria Moretti stared blankly at the television screen. Every single channel—local news, national syndicates, financial networks—was broadcasting the same breaking headline:
MORETTI EMPIRE SCANDAL: FORMER CEO CLEARED, COO RICHARD VANCE ARRESTED FOR EMBEZZLEMENT AND PENDING MURDER CHARGES.
A heavy knock rattled the wooden front door.
Victoria didn't look up. "Leave me alone," she croaked, her voice dry and brittle, stripped of its former aristocratic authority.
The door slowly swung open. Heavy, measured footsteps echoed across the hardwood floor.
Victoria finally raised her head, expecting a guard with her meager evening meal. Instead, the silhouette standing in the doorway blocked the harsh fluorescent light from the hallway.
It was me.
I walked into the room, closing the door quietly behind me. The scent of rain and cold night air followed me in. I looked down at the woman who had raised me—the woman who had taught me ambition, ruthlessness, and, ultimately, betrayal.
"You look tired, Mother," I said softly, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite her.
Victoria scoffed, a bitter, grating sound. "Did you come here to gloat, Adrian? To parade your supposed moral victory in front of a ruined old woman?"
"No," I replied, leaning forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "I came here for answers. Richard is singing like a canary. He’s already handed over every offshore account, every hidden ledger, and every signature associated with Project Janus."
Victoria's jaw tightened, but she refused to break eye contact. "Richard is a coward. He would sell his own mother for a reduced sentence."
"He sold you, Mother. He told the federal prosecutors that the entire brake-line sabotage on Clara’s car was your idea—that you couldn't risk Clara divorcing me and taking half the estate with her."
For a split second, a crack appeared in Victoria's icy facade. Her lips trembled slightly, but she quickly masked it with a cold, defiant sneer.
"Clara was weak," Victoria spat out. "She didn't have the stomach for what it takes to be a Moretti. She was going to donate the entire philanthropic foundation to environmental charities, dismantling everything your father and I built! We protected this family, Adrian! And this is how you repay me? Locking me in a guest lodge like a common criminal, letting some nobody housemaid walk around my home?"
"Her name is Elena," I said, my voice dropping an octave, cold and absolute. "And she is the only reason your grandson's memory isn't stained with your blood, and the only reason I didn't let the federal marshals drag you out in handcuffs alongside Richard."
Victoria stared at me, her eyes narrowing with intense, burning hatred. "You're bewitched by her. That little manipulator played you from the moment she set foot in this house. Do you really think an ordinary housemaid knows how to bypass corporate firewalls and access encrypted forensic drives? Open your eyes, Adrian! She’s not who she says she is!"
I stood up slowly, looking down at my mother with a gaze entirely devoid of warmth.
"Whoever she was before she came here doesn't matter," I said quietly. "Because right now, she is the only person in this house I trust."
I turned toward the door, pausing with my hand on the brass knob.
"Enjoy the rain, Mother. Tomorrow morning, you're being transferred to a private sanitarium upstate. Your assets are frozen, your name has been scrubbed from the board registry, and you will never set foot in the Moretti mansion again."
May you like
As I stepped out and locked the heavy oak door behind me, Victoria’s furious screams echoed against the glass, followed by the sound of a heavy ceramic lamp shattering against the wall.
I didn't look back.
