Chapter 3 - The Gathering of Wolves
The interior of the Moretti estate was breathtaking. Vaulted ceilings of dark oak, sprawling Persian rugs, and massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grey, churning expanse of Lake Michigan created an atmosphere of austere, uncompromising luxury.
Yet, within an hour of their arrival, the peaceful silence of the estate was shattered.
Marcus hurried into the private study where Aiden was reviewing a dossier on the Thorne family’s financial holdings, while Mara sat in a velvet armchair near the fireplace, a team of private physicians quietly checking her vitals.
"Boss," Marcus said, his face unusually tight. "We have an uninvited visitor at the outer gates."
Aiden didn't look up from his papers. "Name."
"Senator Thorne," Marcus replied. "He bypassed his usual security detail and drove straight here in his state vehicle. He’s demanding entry, claiming our security team kidnapped his daughter."
A dark, humorless smile touched the corner of Aiden’s mouth. He laid his fountain pen down on the mahogany desk with a sharp clack.
"Let him in," Aiden instructed smoothly. "Bring him straight to the conservatory. It’s time the good senator learned how the other half negotiates."
Ten minutes later, Senator Arthur Thorne marched into the sunlit conservatory at the back of the mansion, his face red with apoplectic rage. He was a towering, silver-haired politician whose face graced campaign billboards across the state—a man accustomed to making governors bow and corporations grovel.
Behind him trailed Bianca, sobbing theatrically, her designer coat disheveled, clinging to her father’s arm like a wounded bird.
"Moretti!" Senator Thorne bellowed, ignoring the two armed guards standing silently by the glass doors. "What the hell do you think you're playing at? Freezing my accounts? Seizing my commercial real estate? Have you lost your mind? My daughter tells me you had your thugs drag her out of a private family plot and accuse her of—"
"Your daughter," Aiden interrupted, his voice dropping into a register so cold and devoid of inflection that the senator’s tirade died instantly in his throat, "assaulted the mother of my child."
Senator Thorne blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. He looked past Aiden toward the corner of the conservatory, where Mara sat quietly with the physician packing up his medical bag. The senator’s eyes widened with sheer contempt as he recognized her.
"That?" Senator Thorne spat, pointing a trembling finger at Mara. "That little nobody? That’s what this is about? You’re ruining a U.S. Senator over a maid?"
Aiden stood up slowly. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't gesture wildly. He simply walked around the mahogany desk and stepped toward the senator until he was towering over him by two inches.
"She is not a maid," Aiden said, each word hitting the air like a hammer on an anvil. "She is the future mother of my heir. And your daughter didn't just slap a servant—she laid hands on someone bearing the Moretti name."
"It's a lie!" Bianca shrieked from behind her father. "She's a gold-digger! She trapped him! She seduced my husband, and now she's latching onto Aiden—"
"Enough," Aiden barked, turning his amber gaze onto Bianca with such concentrated malice that she instantly shrank back, her father’s arm the only thing keeping her upright.
Aiden pulled a small, sleek digital tablet from his pocket, tapping the screen twice before tossing it onto a glass table between them.
"Review the footage, Senator," Aiden said calmly. "High-definition security cameras from the cemetery. Every slap. Every curse. Every shred of evidence proving that your daughter’s aristocratic upbringing didn't include basic civilized restraint."
Senator Thorne’s hand trembled as he picked up the tablet. He pressed play.
The silent, crystal-clear video played out on the screen: Bianca stepping out of her designer shoes, her face twisted in ugly rage, striking Mara across the face not once, but twice, while the young woman shielded her stomach in the mud.
The color drained from the senator’s face. He knew politics. He knew public relations. If this footage leaked to the Chicago Tribune, his upcoming gubernatorial campaign would evaporate into ash by tomorrow morning.
"Aiden," Senator Thorne began, his voice suddenly lacking all its previous bombast, replaced by a desperate, wheedling tone. "Let’s... let’s not be hasty. Families make mistakes. Tempers flare. We can settle this quietly. Name your terms. Financial compensation? A retraction?"
Aiden stared at him with absolute disdain.
"My terms are simple," Aiden said softly. "You will draft a public statement announcing your immediate retirement from the Senate due to 'family health reasons.' Your daughter will sign a permanent non-disclosure agreement and leave the state by midnight. And Preston... well, Preston’s business ventures in the shipping district have already been dissolved."
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"You're destroying us!" Bianca screamed, breaking past her father. "You can't do this! You're a monster!"
"No," Aiden replied, turning his back on them as he walked over to stand beside Mara, resting a warm, protective hand on her shoulder. "I'm a father. And you just learned what happens when you wake the wolves."
