Chapter 7
1003 Words
I woke the next morning with a pounding headache and the taste of expensive wine still lingering on my tongue. For a blissful moment, I forgot everything—where I was, what had happened, what I'd done. Then reality crashed back, and I groaned, pulling the thin pillow over my face.
I'd kissed Dante Moretti. Luca's uncle. And he'd kissed me back, then offered to help me destroy Luca's life.
What the hell was I supposed to do with that?
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen. Three missed calls from Luca and a text message:
Where the f**k are you? We need to talk. This ridiculous tantrum has gone on long enough.
I snorted and tossed the phone aside without responding. Ten years of marriage, and he still thought he could treat me like a misbehaving child. Not anymore.
I forced myself out of bed and into the tiny bathroom, grimacing at my reflection. My makeup from last night was smudged around my eyes, giving me a raccoon-like appearance, and my hair was a tangled mess. I looked like exactly what I was—a woman who'd had too much to drink and made questionable decisions.
After a quick shower, I felt marginally more human. I pulled on the only clean outfit I had left—a simple blouse and jeans that I'd packed as an afterthought. I'd need to find somewhere to do laundry soon. Another glamorous aspect of my new independence.
My stomach growled, reminding me that dinner with Dante had been my first real meal yesterday. I grabbed my purse, checking that my dwindling cash supply was still there, and headed out in search of breakfast.
I found a small diner a block away that served decent coffee and pancakes that weren't half bad. As I ate, I mentally cataloged my assets and options.
Cash on hand: maybe enough for another week at the hotel if I was careful.
Marketable skills: I had a business degree and had helped run Luca's company for years, though mostly behind the scenes. My name wasn't on anything official because Luca had insisted it "looked better" if he was the sole executive. i***t that I was, I'd agreed.
Contacts: Most of our social circle were Luca's business associates and their wives. Not people I could count on now.
Which left... Dante Moretti and his cryptic offer.
I pulled his business card from my purse and stared at it, tracing the embossed letters with my fingertip. What was his angle? What did he really want from me?
And more importantly, what was I willing to give?
The waitress refilled my coffee, and I thanked her absently, still turning over the possibilities in my mind. Dante was right about one thing—I did know Luca's business inside and out. I knew which clients were dissatisfied, which partnerships were on shaky ground, which new ventures he was banking everything on. Information that would be valuable to a competitor.
Was I really considering corporate espionage against my ex-husband?
I took a long sip of coffee, letting the bitter heat flood my mouth. Ten years. Ten years of supporting him, believing in him, making excuses for him. Ten years of his family's abuse, of watching him take credit for my ideas, of him slowly isolating me from my friends and interests.
And how had he repaid me? By cheating, by freezing my accounts, by hitting me when I finally stood up for myself.
Maybe he deserved whatever Dante had planned for him.
I paid my bill and headed back outside, the morning air crisp against my skin. I needed to start looking for a job, something to keep me afloat until I could access my own money again. My lawyer was working on unfreezing my accounts, but these things took time.
As I walked, a sleek black car pulled up alongside me, moving slowly to match my pace. My heart jumped to my throat until the window rolled down, revealing a face I didn't recognize—a man in a suit with a professional, neutral expression.
"Ms. Caldwell?" he called.
I stopped, wary. "Who's asking?"
"My name is Marcus. I work for Mr. Moretti." He held up an ID badge with Vanguard Corp's logo. "He asked me to check on you this morning."
My eyebrows shot up. "Check on me?"
"Yes, ma'am. He was concerned about your accommodations."
I crossed my arms, both irritated and oddly touched. "Tell Mr. Moretti I'm perfectly fine, and I don't need a babysitter."
Marcus's expression didn't change. "Of course. He also asked me to give you this." He held out an envelope through the car window.
Curiosity got the better of me. I took the envelope and opened it, finding a key card inside with an address written on a note.
In case you change your mind about suitable accommodations. No strings attached. —D
I looked up at Marcus, who was waiting patiently. "Does he always move this fast with women he's just met?"
A ghost of a smile crossed the man's face. "Mr. Moretti is... decisive."
"That's one word for it," I muttered.
"The offer is genuine," Marcus added. "If you'd like, I can take you to see the property now. Just to look."
I hesitated, turning the key card over in my hand. On the one hand, accepting anything from Dante felt like stepping onto a slippery slope. On the other hand, my hotel room was depressing as hell, and my funds were limited.
Just to look. What could it hurt?
"Fine," I said, walking around to the passenger side. "But just to look. I'm not agreeing to anything."
Marcus nodded, poker-faced. "Of course, Ms. Caldwell."
As I settled into the car, I wondered what exactly I was getting myself into. But after the last forty-eight hours, could my life really get any more complicated?
The universe, as it turned out, was more than ready to answer that question.
- Writer
