The Office on Wacker Drive
Chapter 11 - The Office on Wacker Drive
Carlo Moretti wanted Matteo because he still thought the boy could be used.
That was the first thing Luca said before they left for Wacker Drive.
“He does not get to see you.”
Matteo crossed his arms. “I want to see him.”
“No.”
“You said I’m not paper.”
Luca looked at him.
Matteo lifted his chin.
“I’m not a thing people hide behind either.”
Claire watched Luca struggle with two equally fierce instincts: protect the boy from harm, and not repeat the mistake of shutting him out of his own life.
Enzo stood nearby, silent.
Finally Luca said, “You will stay beside me. You will not answer questions unless I say so. If I say we leave, we leave.”
Matteo nodded.
Then he looked at Claire.
“She comes too.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“No.”
The word came from her, Luca, and Enzo at the same time.
Matteo stared at all three.
Claire softened her voice. “This is family business.”
“You found the card.”
“That doesn’t make me family.”
His face closed a little.
Luca saw it.
So did Claire, and it hurt more than she expected.
She stepped closer.
“It makes me someone who cares what happens to you. That’s not nothing.”
Matteo looked away.
“But going there could put my job, my family, and maybe your father’s case at risk.”
Luca’s eyes moved to her.
He had forgotten, Claire realized, that she had something to lose outside his mansion.
Rich people often did.
To his credit, shame crossed his face.
“You’re right,” he said.
Claire almost missed the importance of those two words.
A man like Luca Moretti had no professional use for admitting fault in front of staff.
Yet he had.
“I’ll have Enzo take you home,” he added.
Claire shook her head. “I can take the bus.”
Luca looked at her as though she had suggested traveling by raft.
“No.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You were thinking it.”
Matteo’s mouth twitched.
Luca’s did not, but the room changed slightly.
“I was thinking,” Luca said, “that people connected to me are currently being threatened by my brother and former fiancée.”
“Former?” Claire asked before she could stop herself.
Luca looked toward the breakfast room where Vanessa still sat under guard.
“Yes.”
The single word landed with quiet finality.
At Lakeside’s Chicago office, Carlo was found in a conference room with two shredded bags of documents and a lawyer who looked as if he deeply regretted choosing criminal law before lunch.
Claire learned what happened later from Matteo in careful pieces.
The boy came back pale but upright.
Carlo had smiled when he saw him.
“There he is. The reason adults can’t have nice things.”
Luca stepped in front of his son.
“You asked for him.”
“I asked to clarify ownership.”
“Of my child?”
“Of the trust.”
Matteo had stepped around Luca then.
Luca did not stop him.
Carlo looked delighted.
“You know, your mother was much more practical than your father.”
Matteo said, “My mother left evidence because she knew you lied.”
That wiped the smile from Carlo’s face.
He turned to Luca. “Letting children speak in adult rooms now? Vanessa really did fail.”
Luca said, “Vanessa failed because she chose you.”
Carlo laughed.
“Everyone chooses me eventually. I handle what you refuse to touch.”
“Like my wife’s papers?”
“Like your wife’s paranoia.”
Luca placed Isabella’s photograph on the conference table.
The one that read IF I DIE.
Carlo stared at it.
For a moment, the arrogance slipped.
Then his lawyer reached for the photo.
Enzo caught his wrist before he touched it.
“No.”
A forensic tech collected the shredded bags. Another copied drives. The court order Luca had obtained covered more than Vanessa realized.
By the time they left, Carlo’s office had surrendered bank ledgers, emails, medical forms, and the first hard proof that Lakeside Institute existed largely to turn inconvenient heirs into silent accounts.
But the worst thing found in Carlo’s desk was not financial.
It was a birthday card.
Matteo’s twelfth birthday.
From Isabella’s mother, who lived in Arizona and had been told Matteo did not want contact.
There were six more cards beneath it.
All unopened.
When Matteo told Claire this, he stood in the mansion hallway with his hands pressed flat against his sides.
“She thought I forgot her,” he said.
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Maybe she hoped you hadn’t.”
“I did forget her voice.”
“That happens.”
“It feels mean.”
“It isn’t.”
He looked at her then, tears balanced but not falling.
“Can my dad fix it?”
Claire thought of all the damage money could not touch.
Then she thought of Luca kneeling in the foyer, saying I failed you with no excuse attached.
“He can’t give back the years,” she said.
Matteo nodded, as if he expected that.
“But he can stop losing the next ones.”
The boy looked toward the stairway where his father was speaking with Enzo.
At that exact moment, Vanessa’s voice cut through the house from the breakfast room.
“Luca, before you decide I’m the villain, ask Claire where she was five years ago.”
Claire froze.
Luca turned slowly.
May you like
Vanessa smiled.
“There’s something your loyal little maid forgot to mention.”
