Chapter 10 - THE FRAME
Z
By sunrise, Alessandro Moretti was wanted for questioning in connection with his brother’s murder.
The evidence appeared overwhelming.
A weapon recovered from Victor Salerno’s warehouse carried Alessandro’s fingerprints.
Financial records showed a payment from one of Alessandro’s private accounts to the men who ambushed Matteo.
And a newly discovered witness claimed Alessandro and Matteo had fought violently days before the murder.
Television reporters surrounded the Moretti estate.
Elena watched the coverage from Marcus’s safe house.
“This is insane.”
Marcus shook his head.
“It’s effective.”
Alessandro stood near the window.
“If police arrest me, Charles gains time.”
Dominic looked at him.
“If you run, you look guilty.”
“I am guilty of enough things to make the police enthusiastic.”
Elena turned.
“You’re surrendering.”
Every man in the room looked at her.
Alessandro said nothing.
She walked closer.
“You’re going to surrender because running destroys any chance of proving this is fake.”
“Elena—”
“No.”
She recognized that tone.
Protection disguised as distance.
“You don’t get to disappear without talking to me.”
His expression softened.
“I won’t disappear.”
“You could go to prison.”
“I’ve had worse vacations.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“No.”
He stepped toward her.
“I need Charles to believe I’m cornered.”
“So this is another strategy.”
“Yes.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“Do I get to know this one?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
More than she wanted to admit.
Alessandro took her hands.
“I surrender publicly. Marcus keeps investigating. Dominic protects the family. Charles relaxes because he believes the organization is collapsing.”
“And me?”
“You leave.”
Her hands went cold.
“No.”
“Publicly.”
She stared.
“You make it look like the engagement scandal and criminal investigation finally convinced you to leave me.”
Elena understood.
“If Charles thinks I abandoned you, I stop being useful leverage.”
“Exactly.”
She hated that it made sense.
“And privately?”
His thumb brushed her fingers.
“Privately, you help destroy him.”
She smiled faintly.
“Better.”
Alessandro surrendered at noon.
Cameras captured everything.
He emerged from a black sedan wearing a dark suit, expression unreadable.
Elena watched from a television across town.
Reporters screamed questions.
Did you kill your brother?
Was your engagement a financial alliance?
Is organized crime connected to Moretti Development?
Alessandro answered nothing.
Then one reporter shouted, “Where is Elena Brooks?”
His step faltered.
Only Elena noticed.
That evening, her staged departure began.
She returned to the Moretti mansion under media surveillance.
Packed two suitcases.
Loaded them into a modest rental car.
And drove away.
A reporter caught her at the gates.
“Ms. Brooks! Are you leaving Mr. Moretti?”
Elena lowered the window.
She had rehearsed the line.
Still, saying it hurt.
“I was employed by the Moretti household. Nothing more.”
“Were you romantically involved?”
“No.”
The lie tasted terrible.
“Do you believe he killed his brother?”
Elena looked directly into the camera.
“I believe there are things about Alessandro Moretti I never understood.”
True enough.
She drove away.
The clip went viral within an hour.
Comments poured in.
Gold digger.
Poor woman.
Secret mistress.
Smart enough to run.
Elena stopped reading.
That night she moved into a small hotel under her own name.
Intentionally visible.
At 11:20 p.m., someone slipped an envelope beneath her door.
Inside was a photograph of Alessandro entering police headquarters.
Written across it:
SMART WOMAN.
LEAVE NEW YORK.
Elena photographed the note and sent it to Marcus.
He replied immediately.
Charles believes the performance.
Good.
Elena sat alone on the bed.
Nothing felt good.
At midnight, her burner phone rang.
Alessandro.
She answered immediately.
“Are you okay?”
His voice was quiet.
“I’ve been arrested, questioned for six hours and fed a sandwich that may violate international law.”
She laughed despite herself.
“You?”
“Someone threatened me.”
Silence.
“Elena.”
“I’m fine.”
“What threat?”
“Leave New York.”
“Do it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Publicly. Tomorrow.”
She understood.
Another move.
Another layer.
“Where?”
“Pennsylvania.”
“My hometown?”
“Yes. Familiar enough that Charles won’t be suspicious.”
Her stomach tightened.
“I haven’t been back since my mother died.”
“I know.”
Of course he remembered.
“You hate this plan,” he said.
“I hate all your plans.”
“Consistent.”
“Alessandro?”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said in the car.”
Silence.
“So did I.”
“I know.”
“Say it anyway.”
Her eyes filled.
“I love you.”
She heard him exhale.
“I love you too.”
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Alessandro whispered, “When this is over, I’m taking you somewhere with no guns.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never researched places based on lack of gunfire.”
She laughed.
“A beach.”
“You hate sand.”
“You remember that?”
“You complained for twenty-three minutes after Noah spilled sandbox dirt in your shoes.”
Elena smiled into the darkness.
“You really do remember everything.”
“Yes.”
A knock sounded at her hotel door.
Three slow taps.
Elena froze.
Alessandro heard her breathing change.
“What?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
“Don’t open it.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
A woman’s voice came from the hallway.
“Elena?”
She recognized it.
Victoria.
Elena looked through the peephole.
Victoria Hale stood outside wearing a hospital sling and baseball cap.
Alone.
“Elena,” she whispered.
“My father knows the frame won’t hold.”
Elena opened the door with the safety chain attached.
Victoria’s face was pale.
“He has a second plan.”
“What?”
May you like
Victoria looked down the hallway.
“To kill Alessandro in custody.”
