Chapter 8
1281 Words
I stared up at the building in front of me, trying to keep my expression neutral even as my stomach did little flips. This wasn't just an apartment building. It was a f*****g luxury high-rise in the heart of the financial district, all gleaming glass and steel reaching toward the clouds.
"This is the property?" I asked Marcus, knowing damn well it was.
"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Moretti owns the entire building."
Of course he did.
Marcus led me through a lobby that looked more like a five-star hotel than an apartment building. The security guard nodded respectfully as we passed, and the elevator required a key card to access the upper floors. We rode in silence to the thirty-eighth floor, my apprehension growing with every floor we ascended.
The elevator opened directly into a private foyer. Marcus used the key card to unlock a set of double doors, then stepped aside.
"After you, Ms. Caldwell."
I walked in and immediately stopped short. The apartment was stunning—open concept with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. The furnishings were modern and elegant, all in shades of cream, gray, and deep blue. A massive sectional faced both the view and a fireplace set into one wall. The kitchen was a chef's dream with marble countertops and high-end appliances.
"This is one of Mr. Moretti's corporate apartments," Marcus explained, watching my reaction. "Used for visiting executives and special guests."
I walked to the windows, looking out at the city sprawled below. From this height, everything looked pristine and perfect, all the grime and struggle hidden by distance.
"And I'm a 'special guest'?" I asked, not turning around.
"Mr. Moretti seemed to think so."
I turned then, studying Marcus. He was the perfect employee—professional, discreet, giving nothing away. "What exactly did he tell you about me?"
"Only that you're an important associate going through a difficult transition and needed suitable accommodations."
Associate. Not "my nephew's ex-wife who I kissed last night." I supposed I should be grateful for the discretion.
"How much?" I asked bluntly.
Marcus looked confused. "Pardon?"
"The rent. How much does this place cost?"
His expression cleared. "There's no charge, Ms. Caldwell. As I said, it's a corporate apartment. It sits empty when not in use."
I walked through the rest of the apartment, finding two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, a small office, and even a balcony. It was bigger than the first apartment Luca and I had shared, and probably ten times as expensive.
"This is absurd," I muttered, running my hand over the cool marble of the kitchen island. "I can't stay here."
"May I ask why not?" Marcus asked, his tone carefully neutral.
"Because..." I gestured vaguely at the luxury surrounding us. "This isn't me. And I don't take charity."
"Mr. Moretti doesn't view it as charity. The apartment is empty. It costs him nothing to let you use it."
"Nothing except leverage," I countered. "No one gives something for nothing."
Marcus's expression softened slightly. "With all due respect, Ms. Caldwell, not everyone operates like your ex-husband."
The comment hit unexpectedly close to home. I'd spent so long in Luca's world where everything was a transaction, every kindness came with strings attached. Was I so damaged that I couldn't recognize genuine help when it was offered?
Or was I right to be suspicious of Dante's motives?
"I'll think about it," I said finally, not committing either way.
Marcus nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "Mr. Moretti asked me to show you something else before we leave."
He led me to what looked like a closet door near the entry. When he opened it, I saw it wasn't a closet at all, but a small room with a desk, computer, printer, and filing cabinet.
"What's this?"
"A workstation," Marcus said. "Mr. Moretti thought you might need resources for your job search."
I stepped into the small room, running my fingers over the sleek desktop computer. "That's... thoughtful."
"He also asked me to give you this." Marcus handed me a phone—brand new, latest model. "It's prepaid for six months. In case your ex-husband is tracking your current phone."
I took it hesitantly, a chill running down my spine. I hadn't even thought about Luca tracking my phone. But it was exactly the kind of thing he would do.
"Why is Dante doing all this?" I asked, looking up at Marcus.
For the first time, a hint of genuine emotion crossed the man's face—something like respect, maybe even admiration. "Mr. Moretti believes in helping people who deserve better than what they've been given."
It sounded rehearsed, like a company line. But there was something in his tone that made me wonder if Marcus had once been one of those people who "deserved better."
"I'll leave you to think things over," he said, placing the key card on the kitchen counter. "The apartment is stocked with essentials—food, toiletries, anything you might need. If you decide to stay, you can call me at any time." He handed me a business card. "If you decide not to stay, you can leave the key card with the security desk downstairs."
I nodded, feeling overwhelmed. "Thank you for showing me."
"My pleasure, Ms. Caldwell." He headed for the door, then paused. "One more thing—Mr. Moretti wondered if you might be available for dinner tonight to continue your discussion from yesterday."
Of course. There it was—the first string attached to all this generosity.
"I haven't decided if I'm going to help him with his vendetta against Luca," I said carefully.
"I believe he simply wants to continue the conversation," Marcus replied. "Should I tell him you're unavailable?"
I hesitated. On the one hand, getting more involved with Dante seemed dangerous. On the other hand, I was curious about what exactly he had planned for Luca.
And if I was being completely honest with myself, I was also curious about Dante himself.
"Tell him I'll think about dinner too," I said finally.
Marcus nodded. "Very good. I'll let him know."
When he was gone, I stood in the middle of the living room, turning in a slow circle. The apartment was beautiful, comfortable, and secure. It would give me a base to rebuild my life without having to worry about money for a little while.
But it would also put me in Dante's debt, however much he claimed otherwise.
I sighed and walked back to the windows, staring out at the city. My phone—my original phone—buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out to find a text from my lawyer.
Just tried to file emergency motion to unfreeze your accounts. Judge denied until he can review matter next week. Luca's team is claiming fraud. We need to talk ASAP.
My heart sank. Without access to my money, I was effectively stranded. My emergency cash wouldn't last much longer, and jobs that paid enough to maintain even a modest lifestyle in this city were hard to come by, especially on short notice.
I looked around the apartment again, seeing it with new eyes. Maybe I didn't have to view it as charity or a debt. Maybe it was just a resource—one I could use to get back on my feet and fight Luca properly.
And if Dante wanted information from me in return? Well, Luca deserved whatever was coming to him.
I pulled out my phone and texted Marcus: I'll take the apartment. And dinner.
His reply came almost immediately: Excellent choice, Ms. Caldwell. Mr. Moretti will be pleased. Car will pick you up at 7.
- Writer
