Chapter 3 - The Offer on the Table
Lena stared at him across the vast mahogany desk, her pulse pounding in her ears. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means Boyd Carter is a liability,” Moretti said, standing up from his chair. He walked slowly around the desk, stopping just a few feet away from her. Up close, his presence was overwhelming—clean, expensive, and crackling with suppressed kinetic energy. “He’s a violent, unstable drunk who poses a direct threat to Clara, and by extension, to the people who work in my home.”
“Are you planning to have him killed?” Lena asked, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper.
Moretti let out a short, dry chuckle. “I’m a businessman, Miss Carter, not a cartoon character. Though I admit, Cicero riverbanks have swallowed worse men than Boyd.” He paused, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unblinking intensity. “No. We’re going to solve your problem legally, permanently, and profitably.”
“Profitably?” Lena echoed skeptically.
“Boyd has been trying to secure a commercial subcontracting bid with Moretti Logistics for six months,” Moretti explained, his tone conversational. “He thinks landing a contract with my shipping terminals will solve his gambling debts and make him a big man on the South Side. He’s been hounding my middle-management supervisors relentlessly.”
Lena’s breath caught as the pieces began to click together in her mind. “You’re going to use the contract as bait.”
“Exactly,” Moretti said approvingly. “My procurement director will invite Boyd to a private meeting tomorrow evening at an off-site warehouse near the rail yards. We’ll offer him a lucrative, high-paying logistics contract—under one strict, non-negotiable condition.”
“What condition?”
“A comprehensive background clearance and financial audit that requires him to sign over sole deed ownership of his primary residential property—the house on Maple Street—as collateral to guarantee operational compliance,” Moretti said smoothly. “A standard corporate security measure for high-risk contractors. Once he signs the transfer documents over to a shell corporation controlled by my legal team, we own the house.”
Lena stared at him in sheer disbelief. “You’re going to buy his house out from under him?”
“I’m going to evict him,” Moretti corrected quietly. “We will legally reassign the deed directly to your mother, giving her absolute ownership of the property. Once the papers are signed, Boyd will be legally locked out of the premises with a restraining order backed by federal-level security injunctions. If he steps foot within five miles of the property, my men will ensure he spends the next decade reflecting on his life choices in a maximum-security penitentiary.”
The sheer audacity of the plan left Lena breathless. In less than five minutes, this dangerous, calculating man had designed an immaculate trap that completely dismantled her abuser without firing a single shot or breaking a single law.
“And what’s your price?” Lena asked, her nursing pragmatism kicking in instantly. Nothing in the Chicago underworld was ever free. “What do you want from me in return for destroying my stepfather’s life?”
Moretti’s gaze drifted down once more, lingering for a fraction of a second on the bruise hidden beneath her sleeve, before rising back to her eyes.
“Your mother is in no condition to work for the next month,” Moretti said evenly. “Her bronchitis is severe, and living in that house under that kind of stress nearly killed her. I need a private nurse and live-in companion to manage her recovery here at the estate, while also assisting with high-level household management during our winter charity events.”
Lena blinked, caught off guard. “You want me to be a live-in nurse and maid?”
“I want you safe,” Moretti corrected, his voice dropping into a register that sent a hot shiver straight down her spine. “And as for the rest of my price... we’ll discuss that when the time is right.”
Before Lena could process the dizzying implications of his offer, a sharp knock echoed at the study door.
Vera, the elderly head cook, poked her head into the room, looking flustered. “Mr. Moretti, apologies for interrupting, but there’s a situation at the front gate. A man is demanding entry, claiming he’s looking for his stepdaughter. He’s belligerent, he’s heavily intoxicated, and security says he’s threatening to break the security cameras.”
Lena’s blood ran ice cold.
May you like
Boyd.
He had tracked her here. Somehow, he had figured out where Clara worked, and he had come looking for blood.
